The Death Of One
by The-Dark-Side-Of-Eden
Summary: After a fact finding mission into the past goes horribly wrong, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco are sent back to 1942 to set in motion the events that will lead to the eventual destruction of the Dark Lord. However, the four new students do not go unnoticed and they must race against the formidable intellect of Tom Riddle to save the future of the wizarding world. One-sided TR/HG.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** **After losing enthusiasm for my most recent fic, I have decided to steer away from the most common request I get of Hermione/Tom captive stories and go for something a little more open. I've wanted to do a plot that has more weight than the stuff I have been asked to do over the past few years, something with more of a moral question to it. In this case: Is taking one innocent life, to save the lives of many, justified?  
**

 **This is still an eventual Tom/Hermione story, but, as always, my Hermione is not weak or suddenly going to decide she is actually evil so if you like fluff, I am NOT your cup of tea.**

 **Otherwise, please, enjoy!**

 **CHAPTER 1**

They slammed unceremoniously into the worn carpet of the Headmaster's office, coughing yet gasping for air as the heavy marble bowl wobbled threateningly on its pedestal. Harry reached up to steady it and grimaced as the thick mercury liquid slopped over the side into his hair and onto Draco's cheek. Ron gripped Dumbledore's chair with paler than usual shaking hands and fell into it with a deep wheeze while the Headmaster himself used his bookshelf to steady his legs. Hermione flipped her loose curls out of her face, gasping when her fingers came away spattered with blood.

'Hermione?' Harry crawled to her side, gripping her head between trembling hands. 'Hermione, you're hurt.'

'I-I don't feel hurt.'

'I see blood, it's all through your hair.'

'I don't think that blood is Miss Granger's,' Dumbledore made a very cautious path to the pair, lightly slipping his finger along the strands. 'This is old blood; I think it must have dripped on her head in the chamber.'

Hermione dry retched, making frantic swiping motions at the mass of tangled curls. 'Oh Merlin, get it out, get it out!'

Draco pressed his muddied hand to his forehead with an irate groan. 'Calm down, Granger.'

'Miss Granger, Miss Granger, please stop,' the elderly wizard's grasp stilled her movements. 'We will get you to a shower and you can wash up, just don't hurt yourself.'

He motioned to a blank panel between the frames of two Headmaster portraits and light was just visible along the carpet from beneath. With Harry's hands under her arms, pulling her into an uneasy stance, Hermione found her balance enough to stagger in the direction of the almost camouflaged door. Ron too had found his feet, if not entirely his breath yet, and looked from the seemingly tranquil swirling quicksilver to the Headmaster.

'What the bloody hell just happened?' He cried finally.

Harry flinched. 'Merlin, Ron, turn the volume down. My brain still feels like it's trying to escape through my nose.'

'Sorry, sorry, but what was that?'

'We changed something, Mr. Weasley, as best I can figure,' Dumbledore carefully lowered himself into his chair. 'As thorough as I thought we were, obviously something we did caused the memory to reject us.'

'But what was it, Professor?' Harry groaned, rubbing his throbbing temples. 'We waited for Riddle to open the Chamber of Secrets himself, we kept our distance, we stayed out of range of the Basilisk...,'

'I know, I know Mr. Potter, but clearly there was some small incident we didn't account for.'

'That makes no sense,' Ron scratched at caked grime coating his arms. 'We even made it out fine; no one was in that bathroom when the entrance closed.'

'He's right and then suddenly we get thrown back here,' Harry shook his head in frustration. 'What could have happened?'

'Talking in circles probably won't solve the mystery, Potter.' Malfoy was intent on scraping free the thick, mouldy dirt from under his nails.

Dumbledore's wizened brow had creased in a frown. 'You're absolutely right, boys. There was no one else in that bathroom.'

'Professor?'

His suddenly solemn blue eyes flickered up to the trio of boys and Harry's stomach instinctively sank into his feet and Ron audibly gulped behind him. 'In 1943 Tom Riddle opened the Chamber of Secrets...,'

'We just took that history lesson, Professor.' Malfoy sighed.

'It wasn't the only tragedy to strike Hogwarts that year, Mr. Malfoy,' Dumbledore continued patiently. 'The death of a Ravenclaw student and the expulsion of another student also followed.'

'...We somehow prevented the death of Moaning Myrtle.' Harry jumped, not expecting Hermione as a plume of steam followed her from behind the wall and she ruffled a plain white towel in her damp locks. 'That's it, isn't it, Professor? Myrtle should have died in that memory and we stopped it somehow.'

'I suspect you're absolutely right, Miss Granger.'

'Hang on,' Malfoy held up a pasty hand. 'I thought we couldn't affect the past through a Pensive; isn't it basically just watching a memory?'

Dumbledore nodded softly, his glance flickering to the marble bowl. 'That's correct, however that is not a Pensive.'

Harry frowned. 'What is it?'

'It's called a Scry.'

Hermione's hands stilled in her hair and she stared blatantly at the elderly wizard. '...You sent us

into a Scry?'

'What's a Scry?'

'I felt it would offer a more complete examination of the memory.'

'But the risks, Professor! I thought all known Scrys were locked in a hidden vault in Gringotts?'

'What is a Scry?'

With an apologetic shrug, Dumbledore offered Hermione a meek smile. 'There's only one place safer than Gringotts, Miss Granger.'

'They might rethink that after this, Professor!'

Harry pushed his way between Hermione and Dumbledore, leaning over the Headmaster's desk and slamming his hands down. 'What, in the name of Merlin's beard, is a Scry?'

Dumbledore held up his hands, his eyes regaining something of their twinkle once more. 'My apologies, Mr. Potter; a Scry is not unlike a Pensive, in fact they use the same basic magic, however a Scry is considerably stronger. Rather than simply viewing a memory it offers the ability to actively change it.'

Draco frowned, casting a wary glance at the bowl as though it may be listening. 'How many of these are there?'

'Four known to exist and three of which, as Miss Granger correctly said, are housed in the highest security vault of Gringotts bank.'

Hermione came to sit on Dumbledore's desk, folding the towel neatly on her lap, as she pushed her disapproval of the Headmaster's actions to the back of her mind for now. 'So we have changed the course of history; Myrtle survived Hogwarts and that must mean Hagrid was never expelled.'

Ron frowned, trying to wrap his brain around the snowball of consequences. 'So he's probably not the grounds-keeper and Myrtle won't be haunting the girl's bathroom.'

'For starters,' Hermione scoffed. 'How can we possibly know how far this spiralled; without Myrtle's death, there's every chance Professor Dumbledore never had the revelation of just how deadly Tom Riddle could be.'

Harry's emerald eyes widened, his gaze scanning over Hermione's shoulder along the portrait lined wall at her back. '...I think Hermione's right.'

'What are you talking about, Pot-,' Draco's lucid blue eyes turned into saucers as he too noticed the line of scowling Headmaster portraits; rather noticeably there were two new faces following Armando Dippet.

'P-Professor?' Ron's voice held the panic they all felt and Dumbledore was suddenly very spry as he got to his feet, approaching the wall as he bent at the waist and almost pressed his crooked nose to the canvas.

'Well, well, that's very interesting.'

'Now that you have all finished gibbering and using the Headmaster's private facilities,' the portrait on the end growled, the man's oddly curled eyebrows pulling together in disapproval. 'What are you doing in the Headmaster's office?'

'May I ask who the current Headmaster is?' Dumbledore asked politely, clearly resisting the anxiety that was plaguing his students.

'Lucius Malfoy, of course,' the wizard's painted eyes snapped to Draco's stunned face. 'You have his son with you, for Merlin's sake.'

Draco daftly looked over his shoulder before mentally slapping himself and affixing his usual look of pompous superiority across his regal features. 'We've just been, rather foolishly, playing in a Scry, sir,' he said quickly. 'I think it might have addled their brains a bit.'

'Oh shut it, Mal-,' Ron huffed out a breath, forced from his ribs by Hermione's elbow.

'So I heard,' The portrait raised his extravagant eyebrow. 'Who is this Myrtle character?'

'Long story, sir, I'm sure it's too late to bore you with it,' Draco motioned to the heavy stone staircase. 'We've disturbed you enough for one night, after all.'

'In many senses of the word.'

The dry sneer followed them down the staircase as Dumbledore, Harry, Ron and Hermione took the hint and quickly fled the office, a wash of relief following the scrape of the stone gargoyle rolling shut.

'Very quick thinking, Mr. Malfoy, thank you.' Dumbledore inclined his head as Draco gave a modest shrug, but the pink tinge on the tip of his cheek bones betraying a certain pride. 'Now it seems we are left with some loose ends.'

'That's an understatement, Professor!' Hermione huffed. 'We have to fix this, we have to go back into that memory.'

'And do what, Granger?' Draco ran his hand through his platinum blonde, slicked back hair. 'Kill

Myrtle ourselves?'

'What? No! Of course not.'

'Well that's the problem; she should have died to tip off Professor Dumbledore about what Riddle was capable of,' he shrugged. 'It's either than or set something else in motion to give him away.'

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, puffing his cheeks out with a tired sigh. 'Well, that's not a terrible idea. If we could get our hands on that Scry again, then couldn't we go back to before our arrival and set it right?'

'Technically, Harry, yes we could,' Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, no doubt running dozens of scenarios through his mind. 'However there are very few tangents of the timeline that would lead to us never arriving in that memory; so it would need to be considerably earlier than the date we have just come from.'

'Okay, well let's do that!' Ron's tone betrayed his panic as his eyes darted around the halls. 'This version of Hogwarts is bloody awful!'

Finally taking a moment, the group looked around and the changes to the castle were not exactly subtle; the walls seemed darker and a phantom creak echoed through the hall around them. There were silver and green carpets lining the floor as far as they could see and ornate snakes ha been chiselled into the skirts of the halls; they seemed to writhe the longer the group stared. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, unsure if the castle ha actually dropped a few degrees or if the shivers were born of their overly serpentine surroundings.

Malfoy gave another shrug. 'It's not so bad.'

Ron snorted, but kept his snide remarks after a warning look from Hermione and she took a deep, steadying breath. 'All right, if we're going to do this, let's do it now before we get discovered in this timeline.'

'Miss Granger is right,' Dumbledore reached into the arm of his robe to free his wand before motioning to all of the students in turn. 'You will all need to venture back into the 1940's and set in motion a fitting reason for my past self to take early action against Tom Riddle.'

'You're not coming, Professor?' Ron's voice wavered slightly, earning an eye roll from Draco.

'I think it wise for someone to stay behind and watch the changes as they occur; if there is anything resembling an apocalypse I can pull you from the Scry. Besides, I am the only one among us whom actually existed at that time; it would be far too risky.'

Hermione frowned, fixing her slightly grimy jacket around her shoulders. 'You can do that, Professor?'

Tapping the tip of his wand on all of their shoulders, watching as the teens all shuddered and their clothes morphed on their bodies. 'It wouldn't be easy, but it is certainly possible as a last minute escape plan.'

Harry plucked at the sweater that had replaced his jacket, raising a dark eyebrow at the similar one Ron wore and the off-white button up shirt Draco was currently frowning at. His curiousity turned into amusement as he eyed the green pencil, knee-length skirt and white, heart-cut shirt Hermione was now adorned with. She ran her hands over the thin, white belt that circled her narrow waist and she glanced up at Dumbledore with a dry stare.

'Is this really necessary?'

'I'm afraid so, you'll all be sent back to the 1940's via the Scry and you will need to look as though you're from the time,' he tucked his wand back into his sleeve. 'Mr. Malfoy if you would please make your excuses to the portraits once more and fetch the Scry bowl.'

His blue eyes bulged for a moment. 'How the hell am I supposed to do that?'

'You were perfectly quick on your feet earlier, Mr. Malfoy, I have confidence you'll think of something.'

Looking at the ex-Headmaster as though he had gone mad, Draco just shook his head with a low grumble, standing in front of the gargoyle and leaping back as it began to spin without orders. Deciding it was probably down to the fact he was the headmaster's son, Draco rode the stairs upwards until he had disappeared from sight. Harry tussled his already unruly hair while Ron fidgeted in his soft wool sweater, running his finger in the inside of his collar and Hermione slapped his hand away.

'Will you stop it, we have to look natural.'

'Our clothes aren't going to be the issue with that,' Harry snorted. 'We have no idea how to act in that era!'

Dumbledore chuckled at their obvious nervousness, but rested a kind hand on Harry's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. 'Act like a gentleman, Mr. Potter and you'll be fine. The goal is to go unnoticed and orchestrate whatever you must to bring back the future we all fought so hard for decades ago.'

'What if that's easier said than done?' Hermione voiced the group fear. 'What if Myrtle's death was the only trigger that gave Riddle any kind of opposition?'

A dark manner fell over Dumbledore's demeanour and his hand dropped back to his side, limp with a painful resignation that fell over the trio of students too. 'A future where Hogwarts is tainted and Tom Riddle is free to murder and torture at whim cannot be allowed to pass...Under any circumstances.'

Her stomach clenching painfully and her throat suddenly dry with fear of her own realisation. 'Professor...Do you mean to say if the death of Myrtle is the only way to get our future back...,'

His silver hair glinting in what little moonlight was permitted through the heavy emerald, velvet drapes, the ex-Headmaster's nodding sent a cold shiver through all three of their spines, but no one dared clarify Hermione's thought. Thankfully the weight of the moment was lifted by the earthy rumble of the stone steps curling their way back to the hall; Malfoy perched at the base and clutching a marble bowl tightly to his chest. He took slow, deliberate steps as to not splash any of the shimmering liquid on the carpet and placed the Scry at Dumbledore's feet with a faint thud. The heavy quicksilver threatened to spill over, but gradually settled back into the embrace of the speckled marble and swirled expectantly.

The metallic sheen glinted off Dumbledore's heavily lined face, casting light reflections from his half-moon spectacles onto the walls and he motioned the teenagers closer. 'I will ensure you arrive in the evening where you are less likely to encounter a large crowd and you are all to make your way to Headmaster Dippet.'

'What are we supposed to tell him?' Malfoy motioned to all of them. 'We can't just drop into Hogwarts unannounced.'

'You will be arriving in 1942, during the height of fear of Grindelwald; as such you will explain that you are fugitives from France and Germany seeking sanctuary in Hogwarts,' He smiled at all of them, his eyes twinkling and yet somehow harbouring a deep concern. 'Be sure to change your family names at the very least, especially you Mr. Malfoy, and tell no one of your true purpose.' Dumbledore freed his wand from his robes once more, twisting it before him in a perfectly rectangular motion as papers suddenly materialised in his grasp.

Ron flipped through the pages Dumbledore handed to him, watching as the other three got theirs in turn, they seemed to be faux birth certificates and other identification. '...You can whip up birth certificates that easily?'

'Extreme circumstances and what have you, Mr. Weasley,' Dumbledore tapped his crooked nose with his knobbled finger. 'These should give you just enough credibility to deflect any initial suspicion. Gentlemen, be gallant and betray no knowledge of the castle and Miss Granger, be demure and betray no knowledge.'

She gave the old wizard a wry smirk, knowing he was only really half joking, and carefully pulled her high ponytail tighter. 'I know, Professor, I know.'

'One final word of advice,' Dumbledore bent at his slight waist to dip the tip of his wand in the silvery pool, gently encouraging the swirling pattern to speed up. After some determined twirling, the Scry spun of its own accord and became a perfect, flat reflection of the ceiling above. 'As tempting and as justified as you may think it is, no one is to take revenge on Tom Riddle in this time.'

Harry and Ron swapped guilty glances, both knowing they had allowed the dark thought to cross their minds, although unspoken and Hermione simply dipped her head. 'Professor, we're not killers.'

'Moral justification is a heady drug, Miss Granger,' Dumbledore pressed sternly. 'I need each of your words that you will do whatever you can to see Tom Riddle is exposed through circumstance and not through violence, do I have them?'

'I couldn't kill someone!' Hermione tucked a loose curl behind her ear. 'You definitely have my word.'

'Yes, Professor.' Harry nodded.

Ron scuffed his shoe sulkily across the stone flaw, but followed suit regardless. 'Yeah, I promise.'

Draco shrugged yet again. 'I'm not going to kill him.'

After eyeing each of them for a breath, Dumbledore gave a curt, accepting nod and motioned into the Scry with his aged, oddly nimble hand. 'Very well. Each of you are to step into the Scry as you did before and remember to hold your breath until you hit solid ground. I'm sorry we have no time for a more thorough plan, but I believe if any one can right out mistake...It's you four.'

'Clean up our own mess, blah, blah, blah.' Malfoy's cold drawl was quickly swallowed by the shining liquid and Ron followed with a blatantly fearful look. His red tufts of hair were barely out of sight before Harry's new, shined shoes stepping on top and he have Hermione an encouraging smile as he sunk.

Hermione dipped the tip of her green heels into the Scry, nearly toppling as Dumbledore's hand landed unexpectedly on her shoulder and she turned to him with wide eyes. 'Miss Granger...This time will be harder for you than most. Be strong and remember, no one can take away who you truly are.'

She gave a small frown, but could not deny the silvery tendrils of the Scry curling around her ankle any longer and allowed it to pull her into the bowl. It swallowed her form, encasing her like cool, slimy quicksand until it abruptly stopped and she found an unexpectedly soft landing out the other side.

''Mione...Get off.'


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

Their heads spun and the cold marble seemed to grow ever closer as the quartet of dizzy teens tried desperately to still their world before someone stumbled upon their inexplicable arrival. Draco took three stumbling steps into Harry, knocking them both to the ground, almost taking Hermione out with them as she slammed herself into the wall in a dramatic attempt to doge the scuffle.

'Merlin, Malfoy! Can't you stand on your own two feet?' Harry growled, elbowing the groaning Slytherin off his chest.

'I was just thrown half a century back in time, Potter,' he took Hermione's hand as she helped haul him upright. 'You should have moved.'

'Stop arguing, both of you.' Hermione smoothed flat her skirt when she was sure Draco wouldn't bowl anyone else over. 'We have to find Headmaster Dippet before anyone comes this way.'

Harry pointed over her shoulder, into the smouldering darkness of the unlit hallway. 'Headmaster's office is that way, I guess we just go in.'

'Um, boys?' Hermione's wavering tone brought Harry and Draco's attention to the floor where she was staring at Ron's motionless body.

Harry fell to his knees beside his ginger friend, turning him onto his back to see a thin stream of blood travelling from his hairline, down between his eyebrows. Hermione was next beside him, reaching for her beaded bag only to remember she had not brought it down from the dorm that night. Instead she pulled her wand from her belt, pointing at the two-inch gash and holding her breath as a warm glow slowly pulled the wound together.

'That will stop the blood flow, but we really need to get him to the Hospital Wing.'

Draco growled under his breath, but helped Harry pull the unconscious boy from the cold stone floor and stared expectantly at Hermione. 'Well, Granger...Lead the way.'

'Oh, right, um, yes...Hospital Wing.' Hermione looked down the length of the hallway, either side only facing her with an endless black. 'Past the Headmaster's office, so to the left.'

Not bothering to hide his scepticism, Malfoy fell into step first as the out of time teens carefully made a blind trail through the halls, realising how much they had taken the floating candles of their time for granted. Ron let out an occasional murmur as his shoes scraped behind Draco and Harry, beads of sweat beginning to form on their brows as Hermione trod a cautious road ahead. Although they knew the castle was full and lively in this time it seemed desolate and alien in the haunting silence. No patter of Mrs. Norris' paws, no heavy wheeze of Filch's breath hoping to snag a roaming student out of bed and even the dull coo of the Owlery was absent in the darkness.

Hermione shuddered under a phantom gust of wind, but sighed her own as a gentle glow reached along the hallway, leading to the heavy stone arch of the Hospital Wing ahead. 'Oh, thank Merlin.'

'Hang on, Ron. We're nearly there mate.'

'Weasley's a doorstop right now, Potter,' Draco panted as Hermione threw open the glass doors. 'He can't hear us.'

'Lucky prat.'

'Boys, stop it.' Hermione jogged ahead, her heels clicking smartly on the floor, as she reached the nurses office, rapping on the wood. 'Hello? Is someone there? Our friend needs medical attention.'

The door flew open and a severe looking, hook-nosed woman towered over a startled Hermione, her beady eyes flicking from her to the three boys. 'What's happened?' Her shrill tone pulled a flinch from all three, but Hermione recovered quickest.

'He lost his balance on a set of staircases, it was the strangest thing, they started moving.'

Draco raised his eyebrows, impressed with the Mudblood's quick thinking, but resumed a vague look of concern for Weasley as the nurse motioned to a free bed. He and Harry hauled the ginger dead weight onto the mattress with a rusted squeak, both backing away to catch their breath as the severe witch hovered a few inches from his face. Her bony fingers parted his hair roughly as she examined the now fully sealed gash following his hairline and she puffed an acknowledging sound.

'Who healed him?'

'I did, Ma'am.' Hermione raised a timid hand.

'Nurse Mallard. It's satisfactory job, but you should have left it to a professional.'

'I'm sorry, Nurse Mallard, we just didn't know how long it would take us to find help.'

Mallard gave one last sniff at the situation, turning her back on all of them to clink around on a mobile trolley and mix a vivid green potion. It swirled with thick, glutinous chunks that threatened to bring another retch from Hermione as Mallard parted Ron's lips and poured the foul looking liquid down his throat. As Ron coughed and hacked in an attempt to swallow the disgusting concoction and the nurse reefed him into a sitting position, thumping his back with an expression of utter boredom.

'Is he going to be all right?' Harry asked with a furrowed brow.

'He will be fine, the potion will give him a chance to sleep safely with a minor concussion; by morning he should be back to normal.' Mallard lifted the blank clipboard hanging at the foot of the bed, pulling a balding quill from within her apron. 'Now, what is his name?'

'Ron,' Harry said promptly, eyes widening as he struggled for a surname. 'Uh, Ron Scabbers.'

Nodding sharply, the witch continued to scratch her notes on the parchment without pause and the conscious trio swapped cautious glances, pulling Ron's crumpled false papers from within his sweater. Harry smoothed them on his knee before hesitantly handing them to the now attentive nurse.

'What is that?'

'They're Ron's identification papers, we all brought our papers.'

'I see,' one thin, barely there eyebrow lifted as she scanned the magical counterfeits. Her lips pursed as she flipped through the pages and Hermione held in a surprised laugh as she saw the name 'Scabbers' scrawled along one of the lines. Finally her glassy eyes shot back up to the group, each of them standing to attention under her searching gaze. 'Who are you four, exactly?'

Feeling both of the boys eyes on her, Hermione steadied herself for show time and held out her hand for the rest of the ID papers. 'We're fugitives from the war, Nurse Mallard. I was at Beauxbatons and Harry, Ron and Draco were at Durmstrang until our families were targeted by Grindelwald. We escaped the attacks and had heard Hogwarts offered sanctuary...,' she glanced up with as much vulnerability as she could muster. 'So I used forbidden magic to drop us in the castle walls, I'm sorry, I know it was wrong.'

The nurse had listened with a taught expression, her hands clasped tightly behind her back and Hermione's heart thumped in her throat as she waited for her response. Mallard held out her hand for the rest of the papers which were clasped in the young witch's shaking hands. 'What are your names?' she clipped.

'I'm Hermione Viktor.' Her eyes darted to the boys, pretending to fumble with the papers to buy them some time.

'Draco Lucius.'

'I'm Harry...Privet.'

Breathing an unseen sigh of relief, Hermione watched as the 'T' was just barely crossed in time to undergo the nurse's tight-lipped scrutiny. 'We intended to find Headmaster Dippet and explain ourselves, but then Ron got hurt.'

It wasn't clear if Mallard even heard her and the fine line creasing her forehead caused a joint knot to form in Hermione, Harry and Draco's stomachs. She stood statue still as she flicked through page after page until she sniffed at the final of Harry's papers and briskly handed them back to Hermione. 'Wait here, all of you.'

Her working heels stomped back into the office, leaving the three conscious teens to imagine every possible method of failure. Draco glanced to Hermione, his platinum hairline lower in a concerned frown and he spoke from the corner of his mouth. 'What now, bookworm?'

'We wait, ferret,' she growled, careful to keep her back to the office window. 'If we panic now then we're going to give ourselves away.'

'I'm panicking, Hermione, I'm not going to lie.' Harry sighed, tousling his messy hair. 'What if she's in there to get an Auror to take us to Azkaban.'

'You are a comfort, Potter.'

'Here she comes.'

Hermione straightened at Harry's warning and nervously flattened her skirt, making sure her shirt was tucked neatly into the hem before turning around. Mallard came to a stop, glowering over all of them, even unconscious Ron, as she motioned a bony hand to the Hospital Wing doors. 'The Headmaster will be here any moment.'

'Oh,' Hermione's cocoa brown eyes widened. 'Thank you.'

As though on cue, the doors creaked open and a tall, spindly figure made his way through the pools of moonlight streaming through the windows. His robes dragged faint dust from the stone floor even as he seemed to be fixing them about his slight frame and offering a polite nod to Nurse Mallard. They were all shocked to see, despite his slow steps, Dippet did not look as aged as they expected; he had thick brown beard reaching mid-chest and rather lively brown eyes.

'Nurse Mallard, thank you for waking me.'

'These are the children, Headmaster, and their papers.' She handed the stack to the still slightly dazed looking Dippet.

'Mm, yes, very good. I'll see to from here, thank you.'

She gave a curt nod and threw one last mysteriously warning look to the teens before disappearing back into her office. Hermione's spine dropped a few notches as the witch's white robes vanished behind the worn wooden door and she turned to benign looking Headmaster. He had been idly flipping through their identifications, showing considerably less interest than the nurse had before tucking them into the sleeve of his sweeping robe.

'Well then, war fugitives,' he cleared his throat. 'I'd like to start by offering my condolences to all of you. Have you any surviving families?'

Draco had the dramatic instinct to simply cast his glance down and there was a tragic honesty behind the slight shake of Harry's head. 'No, sir,' Hermione allowed her voice to waver. 'None of us have any...no one...no, sir.'

Dippet nodded his head solemnly, raising a pausing hand to motion out of the ward after glancing at Ron. 'Perhaps we should discuss proceedings in my office and let your friend rest.' He did not wait for their agreement as he lead a slightly doddering pace through the still ominous midnight halls and coming to a stop before the large stone gargoyle they recognised. 'Fair Fortune.'

The staircase sprang to life, seeming to rotate with more ease than any of them had seen before, and they followed Dippet's lead as he stepped into its spiral. Harry quickly reached for Hermione's hand as he stepped up behind her, giving it a tight squeeze before letting it go and pouring into the Headmaster's office. It was with considerable relief that they found the office much closer the one of their original future and no foreign faces lined the wall of portraits. Draco stepped idly beside Hermione as Dippet summoned an extra chair from an unseen closet and gestured for each of them to sit.

'Now, let me put your minds at ease first, Hogwarts will of course offer you all sanctuary during war time and you are welcome to take up residence. It will be upon the condition that you participate in studies and continue your education here, of course,' he crossed from behind his desk to a bookshelf, partially hidden by a massive, slowly spinning globe, and sat down with a slightly tattered hat in his grasp. 'First you will need to be sorted.'

'Sorted, sir?' Harry frowned and thankfully missed Draco's eye roll.

'It is our tradition, young Mr. Privet,' Dippet smiled warming, patting the brim of the hat like an old friend. 'Our four houses were built on certain values and qualities, this Sorting Hat can sift through your mind and discern where you best belong. Regardless, you will all of course go into fourth year at your ages.'

'Oh, that's neat.' Harry raised his own eyebrow at his choice of words, but remained passive as Dippet rose once more and came to stand behind each of them.

'Are you ready?'

'I, uh, I guess so.' Barely finishing his stammer, Harry shrugged under the familiar weight of the hat and waited as its baritone voice hummed thoughtfully in his ears.

' _Well, well, we've met before I see_.' It pondered.

' _Well, technically we haven't met yet.'_ Harry thought nervously.

' _Ah, I see. Time travellers then. Meddlesome business Mr. Potter, very meddlesome business. Not my place to say of course, let's see where I should place you while you get on with your task.._ ,' the thrum of the Hat's consideration tickled Harry's temples and he fought to stop from itching when it finally cried triumphantly. 'GRYFFINDOR!'

There was a a relieved smile that flashed quickly across his boyish features, quickly replaced with one of faux curiousity. 'Is that good, Headmaster?'

Dippet smiled at the boy, lifting the hat and turning to hover it over Draco's head. 'None of the houses are bad, m'boy. Gryffindor is a house of bravery and courage thou-,'

'SLYTHERIN!'

The Headmaster visibly jumped and Hermione yelped as the hat barely brushed the top of Draco's slicked back platinum locks before crying out in certainty. Dippet had pressed a hand to his narrow chest, a shocked laugh rumbling beneath his own touch. 'Well then, that's pretty clear, Mr. Lucius. I suppose that just leaves you, Miss Viktor.'

Hermione watched with some trepidation as the shadow of the hat fell over her face and she heard his mildly amused tone roll through her mind, just as it had in her first year. ' _And here we find the brains of the outfit, I see,'_ his chuckle sent tangible tremors own her spine. ' _Playing with fire in time, my dear.'_

 _'I know, I know. We already made a mistake though; we have to set it right.'_

 _'Hmm, a mission of redemption is it? Now that is very interesting indeed. Let us see where you belong...,'_

 _'Please, anywhere but Slytherin.'_ Hermione thought desperately, not caring if the fear showed on her features. ' _Just not there.'_

 _'Oh now, Slytherin is a respectable house, in fact it would rather suit your ambition.'_

 _'I don't have blind ambition,'_ she frowned. ' _There's a difference.'_

Once again his amusement trickled down her vertebrae and she rolled her shoulders in a shudder. ' _Indeed there is, dear girl, indeed there is. That makes it very clear..._ RAVENCLAW!'

Harry looked momentarily slapped in the face, thankfully regaining his composure quickly, but Malfoy didn't appear to have noticed anything as Dippet clapped his hands and removed the hat. 'Excellent! A cross section! How wonderful, that is very interesting.' He placed the hat back atop the bookshelf and pulled a piece of scrap parchment from within his desk. 'Now then, we'll need to get you settled into your house dorms, but I think that can wait until morning.' He opened the large oval behind his desk, allowing a few errant snow flakes to rush in as well a proud, honey golden owl. It's formidable wing span barely fit through the window as it came to perch on Dippet's outstretched arm and waited patiently as he attached a scrawled note to it's leg. It let out one, piercing screech before departing with a loud swoop into the mild flurry of snow and ice surrounding the castle.

'Um, where will we stay tonight, Headmaster?' Hermione cut in after a few moments of silence.

'Oh, my dear, of course. My mind is still on my pillow, I'm afraid,' Dippet offered an apologetic smile as he shooed the trio from their chairs and back own the helical staircase. They were ushered back into the cold hallway and Dippet lead them in a flurry of robes down a familiar path only to stop in front of a seemingly blank wall.

Hermione's eyebrows rose in recognition of the hidden entrance to the Room of Requirement, but of course she upheld her air of confusion as Dippet pressed a hand to the wall. 'I require a bunk room for three students, two male and one lady, just for the night.'

They all took a step back as a door materialised before them, the trio of students immediately recognising it as similar to the dorm bedroom doors and watched as Dippet cautiously pushed it open. They stared into a simple bedroom, very basically adorned with a bunk bed against the right wall, a plain separating screen hiding a single bed against the left wall. There was a fireplace opposite the door, already crackling cheerily and casting a dim light throughout the room. Another wooden door was just visible at the head of the bunk beds, which they assumed lead to a bathroom and three trunks were stood on end at the foot of each bed.

'That's neat.' Harry exclaimed again, frowning in self disapproval as Draco coughed to cover a sneer.

'Thank you, Headmaster, it's perfect.'

'You're most welcome, my dear. Make yourselves comfortable and I will send house representatives for you in the morning to show you to the Great Hall and your classes.' Dippet nodded to each of them in turn before gently closing the door at their backs.

'This is going to be harder than I thought.' Hermione sighed, flopping down on her lone bed as Draco folded the screen away.

'Why do I keep saying 'neat'?'

'I don't think he suspects anything, Granger,' Draco shrugged as he peered into the bathroom. 'We just keep a low profile and wait for the right moment to throw suspicion on Riddle.'

'I swear I've never said it before in my life.'

'You do realise a lot of that is going to rely on you, Malfoy,' Hermione eyed him seriously as she let her soft, loose curls fall about her shoulders, freeing them from the tight ponytail. 'You're going to be in his house after all.'

Draco frowned, leaning with crossed ankles against the frame of the bunk beds, and looked at Hermione as though she had planned his predicament. 'How do you expect me to do that?'

'You want me to write you a script?' she scoffed in return, flipping open the dark leather trunk the room had provided. 'You're supposed to have that Slytherin cunning after all, go prove it.'

Growling under his breath, Draco said no more but kicked his trunk into its base and rifled through the basic wardrobe it offered; crinkling his pointed nose at a pastel blue sweater vest. 'They can't be serious.'

'It'll bring out the prat in your eyes.' Harry snorted, kicking his shoes off.

'I think it'll look _neat.'_ Draco hissed and Harry shot him a glare while Hermione tried to swallow a genuine laugh as she threw a mid-calf length nightgown over her arm.

'First dibs on the shower.' She said cheerily, locking the door in Draco's scowling face and allowing the sizeable shower to fill the room with comforting steam before she stripped down and dipped a testing hand in the water. She added more cold and allowed the clear rivulets to trails hot pink tracks down her alabaster skin as she reached for a small hotel sized bottle of shampoo. Hermione could hear the boys thumping around in the next room, no doubt lamenting their sad choice of 1940's fashion. She pushed away the surreal realisation that she was currently lathering her hair in 1940's Hogwarts while plotting a means to reveal the true nature of Tom Riddle without killing Moaning Myrtle. The shower head had merciful pressure and Hermione was reluctant to leave the kneading grasp of the water, but as her fingertips began to prune, she groaned and shut it off.

''Mione, are you done?' Harry's voice rang through the barely furnished room and she quickly wrapped a towel around herself.

'Hang on, hang on. You're supposed to be a gentleman in this ear, remember?'

'Hey, it's not like I kicked down the door.'

'Probably would have if it was the Weasel in there.'

'Shut it, Malfoy.'

Hermione groaned yet again, checking the security of her towel before unlocking the door and letting an antsy Harry slip past her, his glasses immediately fogging in the steam. She chuckled as he bumbled around the room, swearing under his breath as his toe caught the counter and shut the door behind her. Draco too had kicked off his shoes and removed his off-white dress shirt, his arms folded behind his head as his toned stomach flexed with his drowsy breaths. Hermione knew, objectively, Draco had only grown to be more attractive as they got older, but sadly his personality had not undergone such a pleasant change. He had become more tolerable after their argument about Buckbeak; apparently her punch had rattled some respect from his brain and Malfoy was occasionally even good company.

'Think Weasel will get sorted into Gryffindor again?' He asked in a low, grumbly tone.

'I hope so; at least two of us should be in the same house,' Hermione opened the screen between them before slipping into the long night-dress. 'I just hope we can tell him his last name before anyone asks him.'

Malfoy's chuckle was not a happy sound and it brought an eye roll from Hermione. 'I wouldn't count on him having the brains to check his chart before opening his big fat mouth.'

'He did just land head first into a stone floor,' she clipped snootily and pushed the screen back out of sight just in time for a shirtless Harry to appear, ruffling a towel in his damp mass of bible black hair. 'I think that's a pretty good cover for any confusion we might have to explain away.'

Throwing the blanket over his shoulder and rolling into his side, leaving Harry to frown at the squeaking from the bunk below, Draco smirked into his pillow. 'What are we going to do when he's all fixed up and still an idiot?'


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed so far, they're always very motivating. I realise I have taken a few liberties with the story (I know Prefects start in fifth year, not fourth) but please bear with me for the sake of story telling.**

 **Also, there is a little cameo for any past readers who have taken a peek at this story after some of my older ones. I'd love to know if anyone spies it. Please, enjoy!**

 **CHAPTER 3**

As if she wasn't dreading enough about their time in the 1940's, Hermione eyed her expected wardrobe with a sinking dread, holding the deep navy skirt at arms length. 'Did no woman in this time wear trousers?'

'Draco's got some.'

'Potter, I swear I'll make you eat that sweater vest.'

Hermione shook her head at the bickering silhouettes on the other side of the screen and wiggled her way into the waist hugging skirt and tucked the low, box-cut ash coloured, dress shirt into it. A thin, pointless belt slid through the loops and she turned to the mirror, sighing forlornly at the uncomfortably feminine figure she posed. Knowing her moral indignation would not be a good enough reason to jeopardise their cover story, she tapped her wand on the top of her head and, using a charm she had learned from Ginny, smoothed her unruly curls into neat glossy ringlets.

'Come on, 'Mione, our guides are going to be here soon.'

'She's just getting into character, taking an age to get ready.'

'Oh shut it, both of you. You just have to put on your creepy Uncle sweaters and open a few doors. This is practically torture.' Hermione huffed as she folded away the divider and stifled a surprised laugh upon seeing the boys. Harry's hair was fighting desperately against the heavy globs of gel he had attempted to streak through it and he tugged at the knitted hem of his maroon sweater. Meanwhile Draco ran his fingers to loosen the collar of his grass green dress shirt, a silver cotton vest hugging his waist flatteringly, but his grey trousers sat well above his hips, as was the fashion, and Hermione failed to swallow another snicker.

'Not a word, Granger.' Malfoy raised an eyebrow upon turning to the mudblood; there was no denying she cut a charming figure in her 40's pencil skirt and low cut shirt. Her bushy, lioness mane was tamed into a more respectable do and he nodded a lewd approval that simply earned him a glare.

'Hello? Is anyone in there?' All three jumped at the sound of a curious, timid voice, swapping glances to ensure their facade was holding up, spurring Hermione to duck into the bathroom and check they had not left anything incriminating behind. It took a deep, calming breath before Harry strode forward to pull open the camouflaged door.

Three faces greeted them, two unknown to the boys and one was blood-curdlingly familiar. The petite, blonde girl who had no doubt been the one to call through the door, jutted out her hand cheerily. 'Hi there! I'm Merida Lovegood, Ravenclaw Prefect and this is Minerva McGonagall, Gryffindor Prefect and that's Tom Riddle, he's the Slytherin Prefect.' The chirpy girl gestured to each in turn.

It took a considerable mental kick for Harry to believe the rather sharp, but attractive girl before him would be his future Transfiguration Professor. Her eyes were keen and intelligent, but her features had not yet been hardened and there were even two faint smile lines curving around the corners of her mouth. Tom Riddle was exactly as he recalled, however, high cheek-bones, a strong jawline and a carefully styled mop of bible black hair, not unlike his own but well behaved. It was the cold, bottomless eyes that betrayed the future Dark Lord lurking behind the chiselled outerlayer of a charming schoolboy.

'Nice to meet you all.' Harry shook hands in turn, pulling himself from his reverie, feeling a faint twitch in his scar as Riddle's cool fingers grasped his for a moment. 'I'm Harry Privet and this is Draco Lucius.' He jerked a thumb back at Malfoy who shook Riddle's hand, but brought the women's to his lips with a soft peck.

'Pleasure, all of you.'

'I thought there were going to be three of you?' Merida's tiny form bobbed as she peered past the boys.

'Oh, there is,' Draco glanced over his shoulder as Hermione made her way from the bathroom. 'This is Hermione Viktor.'

'I'm sorry, I was just fixing myself up for our first day,' she took the three Prefects hands, hesitating as Riddle raised her dainty digits to plant a small kiss on the back of it. She gave him as sincere of a smile as she could, but may have pulled her hand back a little too fast. 'So Merida, I think you're burdened with me for the day.'

Merida's soft blonde waves bounced as she gripped Hermione's arm and pulled her through the sea of faces and into the hall. 'Oh shush, it's not burden. I'm so excited to hear about you! First we have to get you all to the Great Hall though, that's where we have all of our meals and things.'

Hermione cast an apologetic glance back to the boys as she was quickly steered out of sight and down the staircase leading to the hall she had come to know so well. 'You wouldn't happen to know if my friend, Ron has woken up, do you?'

'Oh yes! He's up and about! I think he went to the Headmaster's office to get sorted though. I'm sure Dippet will bring him down before breakfast is over.'

She sighed in relief, finding Merida's incessantly chipper tone infectious and she couldn't help but to smile, even finding the strength to ignore the blatant staring from all tables as she made her way to the Ravenclaw side. Two boys parted, never ceasing their respective conversations, to allow the girls a space and Merida was quick to fill Hermione's goblet with pumpkin juice. 'Don't mind the stares, we don't get a lot of transfer students.'

'That's okay, I think it would have been the same at Beauxbatons.'

'Why is it you don't have a French accent?' Merida shoved a piece of toast unceremoniously into her mouth.

'Oh, I'm not French, I was born in England, but my family moved for work when I was young.'

'The three boys, they're from Durmstrang, right? How is you know them?'

Hermione sipped her juice as her mind reeled for the most obvious story, desperate to up the odds Harry, Ron and Draco might tell the same one. 'Oh, our Father's all worked together in England and so we grew up very close by.'

'Oh that's so sweet! Childhood friends, I love it! Are your families back in England now, is that why you all transferred?' Merida wiped crumbs from the corners of her mouth.

Granted a merciful reprieve from having to put on a mournful show, the Great Hall hummed to polite silence and all heads turned up to the staff table. Dippet had sidled to his place in the centre, a podium hiding his spindly legs as he lowered his hands to dictate the volume and smiled benignly over the hall.

'A wonderful morning to you all, as I am sure the hallway rumours have no doubt informed you, we have new students joining us as of last night. In Slytherin, Mr. Draco Lucius. In Gryffindor, Mr. Ronald Scabbers and Mr. Harry Privet. In Ravenclaw, Miss Hermione Viktor.' There was a timed applause from each house as they were announced and the Hufflepuff table just clapped amiably along regardless. 'I trust you will all treat them with the utmost courtesy and make them welcome in the castle.'

Hermione glanced over to the Gryffindor table, smiling softly upon seeing the shock of raven black and ginger hair she had become so fond of. Catching her gaze, Harry elbowed Ron who surfaced from his breakfast and gave her a stuffed cheek smile before diving back down. She could barely contain a relieved chuckle and shook her head to mirror Harry who jerked his head back, motioning to Draco. His bleach blonde hair was just barely visible behind the bobbing heads of the Gryffindor table, but her stomach clenched in the realisation beside him was the broad-shouldered figure of Tom Riddle. Of course it was, he was going to chaperoned by Riddle for at least the next few days, what had she expected to happen?

Swallowing the unwelcome feeling of pity for the arrogant Slytherin and turned her gaze back up to Dippet who had been rambling about schedule changes to First Year Potions classes. 'With that, I wish you all a busy, prosperous week!' Token applause broke out as most student fell back into their paused conversations.

Hermione managed to survive and deflect most of Merida's questions with bland answers or simply interrupting with daft questions of her own about the castle. She prattled happily about the history of the school, forcing Hermione to bite back several corrections, and was only silenced by the shuffle of their peers signalling time for first classes. Hermione managed to overcome the struggle of stepping over the bench in a pencil skirt in time to snatch the schedule Merida waved in her face.

'I nearly forgot! That's your timetable of classes.'

'Oh, I have Defense Against the Dark Arts first, what do you have?'

'Oh no! I have Potions...That's okay, you'll be in with the Slytherin's so I'll just ask Tom to take you over with your friend Draco.'

Before Hermione could stammer out an excuse, Merida flounced off to the Slytherin table and shamelessly tapped Tom Riddle's shoulder. He seemed unphased by the contact, although Hermione was going to painstaking efforts to stare into her goblet. It must have worked since Merida managed to make her leap with a friendly pat on the back, her eyes offering an apology.

'Wow, you're jumpy. Tom said he'll show you the way! I'll meet you outside at the end of class; we both have Charms for second class.' With that, her moonshine blonde hair fluttered into the sea of taller students, leaving Hermione to stare after her with an encroaching sense of dread. It encroached with a smart click of perfectly polished black shoes and razor sharp cheekbones, an abnormally demure Malfoy in tow.

'Miss Viktor?' Riddle prompted, his cold eyes watching he every little gesture as she took a deep breath, turning to him with a plastered smile. 'I believe you need help on your way to Defence Against the Dark Arts?'

'Oh, yes, if you don't mind,' her nerves worked in her favour as she clutched her schedule to her chest. 'Sorry to impose.'

Riddle flashed a knee-weakening smile, shadowed by the mildly amused raise of Draco's eyebrow, and held out his arm to lead the way. 'No imposition, but we should go or you'll be late.'

Draco clapped his hands on Hermione's shoulders as they made their way through the halls. 'No greater hell, is there Gr-...Hermione?'

She shrugged his touch off with a huff. 'If you want to get your future status from connections then be my guest. I'd sooner earn it through knowledge.'

'I'm sure the librarian and cleaner will hang off your every word.'

Tom Riddle watched the exchange with a carefully passive face, his eyebrow quirking ever so slightly as the slight girl following fell silent with a scowl. Her tiny fists were clenched in her robe and it seemed the Lucius boy was satisfied with that. They soon joined the student filtering into the classroom, their idle chatter somewhat calmer than she was used to, but still it perked up in feminine tones as Riddle made his way through the desks. Fighting her instincts to either retch or laugh, Hermione flicked a cynical glance to Draco who simply nudged her towards a free desk just back from the front.

Riddle turned from a fawning Slytherin girl to see his two wards settling into the desk in front of his, he allowed a frown to crease his brow as the girl laughed when Draco pulled her chair out. Dismissing their strange behaviour as nerves, Riddle settled behind them both and watched as Hermione's already stiff posture snapped even more upon his presence. Her thin fingers visibly clenched around each other as he leant forward, the desk creaking under his weight.

'I feel you should know it is customary for students to sit among their houses.' He whispered, the baritone of his voice raking down Hermione's spine and even Draco rolled a shoulder.

He glanced back to the prefect with a curt nod. 'Understood.'

The class fell silent as the storeroom door flew open with a flurry of deep purple smoke and someone's chesty coughing. Draco swatted away a few stray wisps as they approached the desk, but Hermione narrowed her eyes to make out the shape of a tall, broad-shouldered man stumbling towards the teacher's desk. There was a scrape of chair legs on stone and Riddle's wand twirled in short-sharp motions, seemingly sucking the mauve fog into the tip and clearing the dense room. He sat back down, boredom, perhaps even a little disdain, resting on his features as there was a confused and scattered applause from the other students.

Draco and Hermione swapped puzzled looks before casting their eyes to the tall, lithe man with piercing, almost unearthly green eyes, and carefully styled dirty blonde hair, patting purple dust from his cloak. 'Well then, that's what happen when you tickle them.' He hacked, throwing a pleasant smile over the sea of stunned faces. 'Good morning, fresh faces, good to see. Forgive the grand entrance and turn to page 112 of your books; Zoras I believe.'

Hermione's fingers flicked to the worn book she had found in her trunk that morning, an ornately sketched diagram of the notoriously personable lake creature staring back at her, as she looked up in time to see the suave looking wizard approach their desk. He stuck out a faintly stained hand to Draco, shaking it with a brisk jerk; no doubt cracking a few of the school boy's knuckles. 'Professor Artemis Bolt, new students I believe?' His eyes flickered between them.

'Yes, Professor. I'm Draco Lucius and this is Hermione Viktor.' Draco tilted his head, picking up on the cues of introduction for the era.

Hermione tried to match his manner, offering just a demure smile as Professor Bolt lightly grasped her hand, planting a chaste kiss on the back of it. 'Pleasure, both of you. Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts. I understand you're both transfers from other schools, so if anything is unclear, just shoot up a hand and I'll backtrack as much as you need.'

'Very kind of you, Professor, thank you.' Draco clipped, his blonde brow quirking at the kiss of Hermione's hand.

'Right,' Bolt clapped his hands together before retreating to the front of the class and revealing a large tank, hidden beneath a cloth, and a happily swirling Zora inside. 'This is Neptune and he's kindly agreed to join me for today's lesson. These remarkable creatures have a plethora of fantastic abilities that lose a lot in dry words, so let's start with a little demonstration, shall we?'

There was an excited murmur through the class, notably not from directly behind the two new faces, and Bolt seemed please with his spiel. Draco leant ever so slightly over to Hermione, quill turning in his hand to feign attention. 'Ten Galleons says you slap someone before the week is out.'

'Oh shut it, Ma-Lucius,' Hermione growled, catching herself just in time. 'It seems harmless enough.'

'I'm sure. I look forward to seeing the badges you make for this.'

'So perhaps Miss Viktor would like to jump straight into the Mandrake patch and join me up here?' Her neck audibly cracking, Hermione turned to see Professor Bolt staring intently at her, his bottle green eyes twinkling expectantly as he waved her up. 'Come along, dear. He won't bite and neither will I.'

Almost tripping as her slightly wobbly knees refused to work when she stood from behind the desk. Hermione flashed an apologetic smile to the Professor before joining him in front of the tank. The creature inside was not unlike a dolphin, but the size of an otter with large inky black eyes and a subtle phosphorescence emanating from it's ghostly white skin. Although it's entire eye seemed to be one big pupil, Hermione knew it was watching her with a quiet attention and there was something about it's proximity that relaxed her; like a reassuring smile from an old friend.

'Now then, Miss Viktor if you would please place your hand on the glass,' Bolt caught her attention once again with a warm hand on her shoulder, pulling an instinctual flinch as she pressed her palm to the surprisingly warm glass. 'Very nice, now would you kindly tell me do you happen to know what a Patronus is?'

She stared at him, her eyes widening for just a moment, before she found her voice. 'Oh, um, yes, it's a protective force used to repel the presence and effect of a Dementor.'

'Lovely, just lovely. Clearly Beauxbatons don't skimp on their Dark Arts. Have you ever summoned one yourself?'

'Yes, once in class, Professor.'

'What shape did it take?'

'An otter.'

Bolt chuckled quietly to himself, clearly in on a joke Hermione and the rest of the class had missed. 'How fitting. Well, when I count to three, Miss Viktor, I would like you to summon your patronus for us, never taking your hand from the tank. Can you do that for me?'

Fiddling the take her wand from her robes, Hermione gave a weak nod, struggling to fish out a warm memory in her panic. 'I can.'

'Good girl, wonderful, let's have at it then.' Bolt motioned with eager hands for Hermione to begin and she could feel the eyes of the class resting on her; one set uncomfortably heavy.

Desperate to block out the attention, Hermione closed her eyes and allowed the slide show of her life to flutter through her mind, a few pleasant days pausing longer than others, but none settling that warmth in her stomach that would allow her to cast the charm. The minute that had passed seemed an eternity when finally the image of Harry and Sirius floated before her, the older man encompassing his Godson in sinewy, tattooed arms as he would his own child. Buckbeak shuffled impatiently behind, his hawk eyes itching to the night sky as Hermione watched Harry bathe in his first real memory of familial love.

She raised her arm, robes sliding down, and she swirled her wand expertly, flicking it in front of her with a calm cry; ' _Expecto Patronum.'_ Hermione opened her eyes in time to see a playful, solid silver otter materialise from the tip of her wand and scamper over the heads of the rather stunned looking classroom.

'Wonderful! Just wonderful!' Bolt clapped his hands together, before turning his attention to the tank. 'Now, Miss Viktor, look Neptune in the eyes if you would.'

The creature's impossibly black eyes caught Hermione's instantly and she found herself trapped by the intensity of his gaze. It seemed to creep past her eyes and under her skin, invasive, but not unwelcome as warm tendrils curled around her nerves and seemingly into her very mind. They caressed her thoughts, seeking out the same feelings of joy she had searched for just second ago and flaring throughout her entire body as they struck gold. There was murmuring behind her, even a gasp or two that allowed her to pull from the Zora's gaze and turn back to the desks. It was with a dropped jaw, that Hermione watched the fine stream of silver, feeding her Patronus, thicken and suddenly it was not just her otter rolling happily around the roof of the room, but a half dozen. Six scampering otters made the classroom their playground, all solid and perhaps even larger than Hermione recalled.

'Exceptional, Miss Viktor.' Bolt came to stand beside her, his fingers gently curling around her wrist and lifting it from the glass. It was as though ice claimed her every nerve, cutting through her entire body and her knees threatened to collapse from beneath her. 'Whoa, whoa, be careful now. It seems Neptune took a liking to you.'

'He has a funny way of showing it.' Hermione muttered to herself, earning a rather charming grin from her teacher before he ushered her back to her seat.

Mercifully the Professor chose not to dwell on the demonstration and Draco had the chance to shuffle closer to Hermione, his face full of skepticism. 'What was that?'

'A Patronus, you'd recognise it if you weren't usually on the other end of the Dementor leash.'

'You know that's not what I mean, I thought we were trying to keep a low profile?'

'What are you talking about? The Professor asked me to go up there.'

His murky grey-blue eyes narrowed, but his hands moved to hold up the page Bolt had instructed them to turn to and pointed at a low paragraph. Hermione snatched the book from Draco, skimming the words until she found where the Slytherin's concerned lay and she swallowed a thick lump of agreement. 'Oh...,'

'Well done, Viktor.' He growled.

'How was I to know?'

Draco snorted, snatching his book back. 'Little Miss Bookworm not knowing something from a textbook?'

'This one is a little before my time.'

'Never stopped you.'

'How was I to know Zora's usually only double the number of Patronuses...,' Hermione frowned at the implications of her own question. 'Maybe I just picked a really strong memory.'

'Yeah, well, let's hope our friend behind has a bad memory or you've just put yourself on his radar.'

The classes were a minefield of assumed knowledge, demure manners and Hermione desperately trying to bite her tongue as outdated information was trotted out by several respectable Professors. Harry and Ron had been a frustrating comfort behind Hermione in their Charms class and just plain frustrating in Potions as they played mock 1940's gentlemen with Merida. Thankfully there were no further Ravenclaw/Slytherin classes for the day and only Draco had been exposed to Riddle for any length of time.

The two boys had walked in brisk silence to their Potions class, just barely missing the tide of Ravenclaws making their way to Transfiguration. Riddle's keen eyes spied the soft curls of the new Ravenclaw girl bouncing past, in tow of that flaky airhead, Lovegood. He fought the urge to curl his lip in a sneer, transforming it seamlessly into a polite smile and nod as he lead Lucius to the seat beside him.

'Aren't I taking up someone's seat?'

Riddle cocked an eyebrow. 'Sit wherever you want, Lucius. I was simply instructed to guide you.'

Wisely, the boy took the seat beside him without further argument and Riddle waited with a practised straight back as Slughorn thundered past. His rotund build only served to emphasise his disappointing lack of edge in Riddle's mind, but doubtless the man had his uses and that was enough to warrant politeness for now. No matter how forced it was. As the Professor delved in to another tedious study of the uses of Mandrake root, Riddle took the opportunity to corner the new Slytherin among them.

'Durmstrang, was it?' He asked lightly, clearly catching the boy off guard as he scratched an ugly line across his parchment.

'Yeah, yes. It was.'

'And the other boys, the same?'

'Yes, all Durmstrang.'

'The Viktor girl?'

'Ye- No, no of course not, she attended Beauxbatons.'

'So how is it all you all know one another?'

'Family friends,' Draco recited, perhaps a little too sharply, after having had Hermione hurriedly whispered their back story in the hallway. 'We grew up together.'

Riddle noted the rhythmic clenching and unclenching of the boy's hands as he spoke. 'Were you expelled together too?'

'Hm? No, we weren't expelled; we fled.'

'Fled from what, pray tell?'

'Now Tom, my boy, as routine as I'm sure this is for you, I can't have you distracting the new fellow from class,' Slughorn tutted jovially. 'You can tutor him in the common room if you must.'

'Of course, Professor, I apologise.' Tom played his part beautifully and, for the first time in his life, even since their begrudging allegiance at the end of their third year, Draco found himself wishing for the company of the Terrible Trio.

'Not at all, my boy, just doing your duty I'm sure.' Slughorn bustled before continuing in his droning theory lesson and Draco breathed a gradual sigh of relief and made a mental note to excuse himself the second he stepped out of the classroom. It wasn't hard to lose Tom as the end of the lesson marked the end of classes for the day and the Slytherin Prefect was almost immediately mobbed by giggling, hair-twirling Slytherin girls. Draco used the cover of vapidity to slip his guide and made his way quickly to the Great Hall in the blind hope the other three had thought to do the same. He crossed the threshold and almost ran nose first into Ron as he rounded the corner at speed, scrambling to keep his footing as Draco growled.

'Merlin, Wea- Scabbers, do you want another trip to the Hospital Ward?'

'I was coming to find you, actually. Finished cuddling up to Riddle?'

'Say it louder, you flubber-head, I don't think they heard you in the common room.'

Ron had the sense to clam up as he lead a sneering Malfoy to the end of the Gryffindor table, tucked in the corner where Hermione and Harry sat waiting. They all rather blatantly checked no one was near enough to overhear anything that could ruin the future of wizardry before huddling together and Harry ruffled his messy locks. 'Well, at least it's all pretty familiar.'

'Apart from the lessons and teachers and students and customs, almost a mirror image,' Hermione scoffed, puffing her cheeks out in a day's worth of frustration. 'There is something very wrong with a teacher kissing the back of your hand.'

'I didn't hear complaints when Bolt did it.'

'Because I'm not willing to risk your lunatic father becoming Headmaster of Hogwarts for the sake of my pride,' she bit sharply. 'I'm just saying, it's not that familiar.'

Harry held up an apologetic hand. 'All right, fair call, well it's not that bad for us I guess.'

'Speak for yourself, Privet,' Malfoy shuddered. 'I was almost interrogated by Riddle in Potions.'

Hermione's eyes snapped to Draco's with an almost audible crack. 'What did he ask? What did you tell him? Is he suspicious?'

'Take a breath, Viktor,' Malfoy groaned, smoothing back his gelled hair. 'Slughorn cut him short before he could ask anything delicate, but I do think it means we need to get our story sorted before it happens again.'

Ron nodded frantically. 'I had no idea what you'd told that nurse when I came to, I just kept pretending to choke on my water; pretty sure she thinks I'm special.'

'She is an educated professional, mate.' Harry grinned.

'Nevertheless,' Hermione held up both hands to stop the incoming argument. 'I think Draco is right, let's get our story sorted. You three came from Durmstrang, I was schooled at Beauxbatons and our Father's all worked together as we grew up; hence we're all friends. Our families were targeted and killed by Grindelwald and we were sent away by, let's say Ron's father, during the attack.'

'Why his father?'

'Because your father would only save Purebloods.'

'The problem being?'

'Are we clear on that?' Hermione hissed through her teeth. 'Or do I need to write it down?'

Draco waved a dismissive hand. 'Relax, we won't be here long enough for the story to get twisted.'

'Oh really?' Ron snorted, choking a little on his pumpkin juice. 'Got a plan already, do you?'

'Not yet, Scabbers, but I don't plan on spending enough time in this year around Riddle to rouse his suspicion. So let's just stick to the bones of a story and not draw any unwanted attention that might bring questions.'

Hermione nodded solemnly. 'He's right. Riddle hasn't opened the Chamber of Secrets yet, but he's already cultivating his power base as Lord Voldemort and we don't know precisely when he began to suspect he could open the Chamber.'

Harry frowned. 'I don't want to wait around to find out.'

'None of us do,' Hermione shook her head, her small hands clasping at her goblet in thought. 'If we do this right we can tip off the Dumbledore of this time before Riddle ever gains real momentum and save Myrtle's life.'

'Or we kill her and pin it on Riddle.'

'Draco!' she hushed herself quickly, glancing around to see if they had drawn attention. 'Don't even joke about that.'

Draco shrugged with infuriating detachment. 'Who was joking? We're here to make sure Dumbledore knew enough in Riddle's youth to distrust him, if history gives us no other option than to kill Myrtle, I'm willing to get my hands dirty.'

'You're just okay with killing an innocent girl?' Harry rumbled darkly.

'Are you okay with putting her life above that of hundreds, maybe thousands, of other witches and wizards if Riddle comes to uncontested power?'

'...It's not that simple.'

'No, Privet,' Draco stood, gulping down the last of his juice. 'It really is, but you're just going to complicate it with sap morals to make yourself feel good. Believe it or not, I'm not that fond of the future we left; if killing one measly girl is the best way to stop my Grandfather throwing in with Riddle and cursing my family to live under his thumb, not mention slaughtering hundreds...I'll snap her neck myself.'


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Long time no see! I left this story hanging for far too long and I am so, sincerely sorry to anyone who has been waiting. This update is thanks to an anonymous reviewer who told me they revisit my stories for updates. I felt terrible for making them wait and kicked my butt into picking this up again. I'm a little rusty, but I'm back! ENJOY!**

 **CHAPTER 4**

Draco had barely avoided Riddle the first night he spent in the Slytherin dorm; it was only thanks to the tight huddle he and several other Slytherin had pulled into after dinner that had excused him from further questions. As the warm morning light stretched along the aged wooden floors, he knew it wouldn't last, he had maybe another hour of peaceful denial before he and the rest of his year would shuffle down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He slowly showered, taking his time waiting for his fine platinum hair to dry, rather than using a charm, before he painstaking gelled every lock into place and picked scattered lint from his robes.

He was chewing on the idea of hemming his pants up just a quarter inch before someone coughing behind, caused Draco to spin with whiplash speed. It took considerable control to meet Abraxas Malfoy with a blank, perhaps slightly irritated stare. The elder Malfoy unknowingly gave his future grandson an inherited sneer. 'Trying to impress already, Lucius?'

'Durmstang was quite strict on presentation,' he said nonchalantly, running a fingertip over each eyebrow. 'It's just habit.'

'I'd be careful if I were you, that's all,' Abraxas shrugged as he rubbed a pinch of gel between his palms and drew his finger back though his shoulder-length blonde hair. 'I'm sure Riddle can tell you better than I, but some of the Slytherin girls can be rather forward.'

'I'm sure I'll find a way to fend them off.'

With a chuckle, the elder Malfoy waved Draco out with him and they joined the rest of the group following the regal carriage of Riddle into the Great Hall. Draco recognised a few younger faces from his own life, one of which was Regulus Black who almost walked straight into Abraxas as his gaze was anchored firmly across the hall.

'Find some distance, Black,' he growled, pushing the taller boy back. 'What are you looking at?'

Regulus, barely seemed to register Abraxas' tone, instead he just waved him off and stood, ankles crossed and arms folded, gazing over the Hufflepuff table to the Ravenclaws. Having caught his grandfather's venom, Draco turned to follow Regulus' interest and felt a drop of panic in his stomach upon seeing the target. Hermione had just slipped next to Merida at her house table, her courteous smile in place, but there was a dullness to it that tipped him off to a rough night.

' _She had to choose now to stop looking like an old maid._ ' Malfoy groaned internally, begrudgingly acknowledging Granger cut quite the figure in the waist high skirts of the era.

She politely listed to Merida recount her dream from the night before, while mentally making a note to count how many beds were between them in the dorm. Hermione tastelessly chewed a piece of toast, the realisation from yesterday was still weighing heavily in her mind and she threw a cautious glance over to Draco. He was chatting to a Slytherin boy with lush raven hair, both of whom were looking directly back at her and she felt her eyes widen. Dropping her line of sight back down, she felt fear and a blush creep up into her pale cheeks before nudging Merida into movement.

'I'd like to get a desk at the front if possible,' she said lamely. 'Do you mind if we go to Potions early?'

'Hm? Oh, no of course not. I like the front seat too, I don't like staring at the back of people's heads; it's hard to to tell when they're thinking.'

'...Right, of course. Shall we go then?'

Nodding her head eagerly, Merida lead Hermione from the hall and continued to chat her ear off all the way to the Potions room. 'Do you think that means anything; dreaming about a Thestral stealing first dance at my wedding?'

'I imagine it does,' Hermione giggled as a genuine frown creased Merida's brow. 'But I think you'll only spur more dreams thinking too much about it.'

'...That's true.'

'Well, well girls, you're very eager today. I hope I haven't caught you planning some terrible prank.' Slughorn's self-amused laughter brought a sigh from Hermione.

'Oh no, Professor!' Merida cried, scandalised. 'We would never.'

'Easy, Miss Lovegood,' he held up a sausage-fingered hand. 'I was only pulling your leg, come on inside girls, class will start in ten minutes anyway.'

Hermione nodded as Slughorn held the door open for them and Merdia bustled to the table up the front. They carefully placed their books down and the bubbly Ravenclaw shoved a chipped, badly thinned cauldron between them, scarping the rock floor as the Professor waddled to his desk. The robust man busied himself with scattered papers as more student filtered in, taking their seats and rolling cauldrons into place.

'You didn't need to swap classes for me, you know,' Hermione smiled. 'I'm slowly finding my way around.'

'Not another word. I was told to make you feel welcome and I couldn't do that from a totally different room,' Merida brushed off her concern. 'Besides, it means I have time for Divination now.'

Thankfully Hermione was spared the task of pretending to be happy for her exuberant friend as Slughorn heaved himself from his chair and began to motion for quiet. The burbling chatter died down and the puffy-cheeked man gave the room a nod.

'Good morning students, today we will be continuing our last lesson on a basic medical Cleansing Potion. Turn to page seventy-six of your book and, in your pairs, collect what you need from the store room.'

'I'll get the goodies!' Merida almost fell out of her chair as she ran to the narrow store cupboard and left Hermione carefully coaxing the brittle pages of textbook over. She knew the potion well enough, having brewed it as part of her exam last year, but knew better than to make it from memory and draw attention.

She lit the fire beneath the cauldron and tidied the table as she waited for Merida to return, looking up with the intent to find her and instead seeing Professor Slughorn's bulging belly approaching. He held out a stubby-fingered hand and gave Hermione's a light shake.

'Miss Viktor, isn't it?'

'Yes, Professor.'

'I thought perhaps you may have tired of being singled out as a new face at the start of a class, so I thought I'd welcome you privately,' he tapped his nose with a grin. 'I hope you're finding yourself at home here.'

It was with genuine gratitude that Hermione smiled in reply. 'I appreciate that, sir, really I do. The castle is so vast, it's easy to lose bearings, but I think I'm finding my way.'

'You'll get the hang of it, dear girl, and if you ever do find yourself lost, the house ghosts are surprisingly accommodating. Most of them, anyway.'

'Ghosts, sir?'

The ingredients Merida dropped unceremoniously on the table cut off Slughorn's reply and he waved for the girls to get on with their task before waddling to the next table where a perplexed looking Hufflepuff was trying to pull spider silk from his eyebrow.

'Sorry that took so long,' Merida puffed. 'They should make that room bigger or Georgia Patil's hips smaller.'

* * *

Merida chatted through the rest of Potions as Hermione nimbly fixed enough of her mistakes to get them a pass and quietly nodded as they wandered back into the hallway and the Ravenclaw Prefect praised her own potions skill.

'It comes form my mother, I think, she never had to have the same hair colour twice in one day with her cosmetic potions, you know.'

'Sounds lovely,' Hermione forced a smile before gesturing over her shoulder. 'I have Transfiguration now, how about you?'

'Divination,' Merdia stuck out her bottom lip. 'Need me to show you the way?'

'No, no I had Defence Against the Dark Arts next to it yesterday. I know the way. I'll see you for lunch in the Great Hall when it's over?'

'Of course! I'll save you a spot.'

Hermione breathed sigh as she turned on her heel and made her way to class; at first Merida's demeanour had been infectious and now it was simply unending. Feeling inexplicably tired for having spent the morning with the energetic girl, Hermione ran her hand through her charmed smooth ringlets. She shifted her books from one arm to the other as she reached for the classroom door handle, groaning as they over balanced and toppled to the floor. She crouched down to scoop them up, jumping a little as a pair of masculine hand deftly gathered them together for her.

'Allow me,' Draco helped Hermione straighten as he ushered her into the room. 'Keep walking.'

'I can't tell if this is chivalry or an abduction.'

'It's just the air us Slytherin's give off.'

Hermione smirked as Draco set her books and his on a table near the back, ignoring Hermione's obvious pout at being so far from the front. 'What's with the White Knight act then?'

'It was me or him.' Draco subtly nodded to the side where Regulus Black dropped his books with a thump before turning on his chair to discuss something with Abraxas.

'Is that...Regulus Black?'

'In the pure-blood flesh.'

'Why would he pick up my books.'

'Because you're looking less and less like you fell out of a tree lately,' Draco shrugged. 'Caught his eye it seems.'

'Oh, Merlin,' Hermione's stomach clenched uncomfortably. 'How do Slytherin's handle rejection?'

'We don't.'

Draco's clipped tone slithered down Hermione's spine as the office door opened and a young, auburn figure of Albus Dumbledore made a chirpy path forward and held his arms out in welcome to the class.

'Good morning, good morning,' he beamed. 'I have a busy lesson planned for you all today so let's not waste time. I'd like you all to partner up and hand your wands at the ready.'

Draco gave Hermione the barest side glance as confirmation that they would be partners and both placed their wands in front of them. 'Think we can work without you turning violent, Viktor?' he murmured.

'Think you can keep just two legs this time?'

'If you've all found yourselves a partner, I'd like you to spread out in the room and face one another, a few feet away if you would,' Dumbledore instructed, waving his hands about the room. 'Come, come, let's be quick.'

Hermione and Draco set themselves in the back corner of the room, Hermione freezing in her attempt to smooth the pleats in her skirt as she watched Riddle sidle across from them with Regulus Black in tow. Catching her wide-eyed pause, Draco glanced over his shoulder, snapping back with a slightly tired look of exasperation.

'Now if you would all take turn at gently waving your wand in a figure eight-type motion while using the spell _Engorgio_ and enlarge your partners robes.' Dumbledore demonstrated the motion with his finger. 'Then, once both have over-sized robes, reverse the motion and use _Reducio_ to return them. Do take care not to aim at anyone's face as you may accidentally enlarge their eyeballs to the point their skull can no longer contain them. Come, come, have a try.'

Swapping mildly amused looks, Draco motioned for Hermione to go first, holding his wand behind his back and straightening his robes. 'Right up your alley, hm, Hermione? Blowing something out of proportion.'

Hermione mocked a laugh as she aimed the tip of her wand at Malfoy's chest. 'First time you will have used this spell on something not attached to you, Lucius?'

Although his powder blue yes narrowed in a glare, Draco's pale lips curled into a smirk as heheld out his arms and watched his plain black robes slowly engorge until they were just barely hanging onto his lithe frame. He nodded approvingly, swaying the droopy sleeves back and forth as he looked up.

'Not bad, Viktor,' he pulled his wand from the vast shelter of his sleeve. 'My turn.'

Hermione clutched the front of her robes, pulling them right across her chest to make a larger target. 'Robes, Lucius, just the robes.'

'A little credit, please,' he twirled his wand nimbly and recited the spell as a short, bright pulse of green washed over Hermione's clothes. 'I'm not totally incompetent.'

Hermione smirked as her robes slowly grew, hanging from her much as they had Draco and she giggled as the hem pooled around her feet. 'Just partially.'

'Just do the spell.'

' _Reducio._ ' Hermione watched as Draco's clothes returned to normal and watched her own sleeves creep back into shape as he cast his own. They reached their original length, but it seemed she had misremembered as the cloth continued to shrink. Perhaps the style was different in this time and she had not realised. The robes continued to tighten and Hermione was certain they had not been this tight.

'Oh no,' she tried to wriggle her arm from the constricting sleeves and, seeing something had gone wrong, Draco rushed to her side and helped to yank a single arm free. 'What did you do?'

'I didn't do anything,' Draco growled under his breath as he tried to pull her other arm free, but the robes had shrunk too much and caught at Hermione's elbow. 'Damn it, it's not coming off.'

By now several other students, including Tom Riddle, and Professor Dumbledore had noticed the hushed whispers from the new students and there was a feminine gasp from somewhere as Hermione's arm began to turn a funny colour. Her fingers were aching and icy cold, Hermione had dropped her wand from her numbing fingers and looked up to see Riddle walking over with his at the ready.

'D-Draco...,'

Glancing behind to see what had given the uncharacteristic break to Hermione's voice, Draco's stare hardened and he pulled his wand free, pressing the tip into the vicious black cloth band beginning to draw blood from Hermione's arm and muttered.

' _Diffindo_.'

The sound of the cloth ripping was loud and sharp as it floated to the ground, continuing to shrink into barely more than an eye-patch. Draco took Hermione's arm in hand, frowning at the vivid red that encircled her elbow and trying to swallow the uncomfortable and unfamiliar feeling of apology welling inside.

'Miss Viktor, are you alright?' Dumbledore came to tower over the students, taking her arm from Malfoy and examining the marks left. 'Hm, I think you'll be fine but perhaps you should go to the Hospital Wing regardless.'

'I'll take her.' Draco tucked his wand in his pocket, ready to go and glaring slightly as Dumbledore motioned for him to stay put.

'Very admirable of you to offer, Mr. Lucius, but yourself and Miss Viktor are new, in the interest of safety I'd prefer a more familiar student take her. Mr. Riddle, if you'd be so kind?'

'Of course, Professor.'

Hermione caught her protest at nothing more than a slight squeak which it seemed only Draco caught. Although it was fleeting she could have sworn there was flash of sympathy in his eyes as he was forced to take his seat once more. Riddle held the door open as Hermione tucked what was left of her robe in her pocket and, lightly gripping her elbow to her chest, followed him into the hall. The door clicked behind them, but Hermione didn't dare look behind as she made a brisk pace through the cold halls with Riddle keeping step just behind.

Resisting the urge to run or scream or fake her own death, Hermione forced herself to slow down, knowing she could not explain how she would know her way around after only one day. Riddle's clipping steps came closer and she shuddered as his shadow washed over her and they walked side by side. A small show of mercy, it seemed he was not one for small talk and their journey was silent, but his gaze was heavy and unmistakeable for the entire trip.

It took an age to reach the Hospital Wing and Hermione never thought she would rather the company of the hook-nosed Nurse Mallard over anyone, but it was practically a friendly reunion as she ushered her onto a bed.

'I've told them once, I've told them a thousand time...,' she muttered under her breath as she cleaned the thin layer of dried blood from Hermione's pale skin. 'Too dangerous.'

'It was just a mistake, Nurse Mallard,' Hermione offered gingerly. 'A transfiguration spell went a little awry.'

'I can see that, Miss Viktor.'

'It barely hurts now, I don't mean to take up your time.'

'It's what I am employed to do, Miss Viktor.'

Accepting that hard outer shell wasn't going to be chipped, Hermione gave up and just allowed the gaunt nurse to do her job while Riddle leant against the wall beside, one ankle crossed over the other and seemingly bored. It was a simple job to patch up the slightly torn skin of her arm and Hermione lightly rubbed the pink, but healed skin as Mallard fetched her papers. She had been unable to shake the weight of Riddle's attention as he rested just a few feet away and, taking a deep breath, she turned to him.

'Thank you for bringing me here,' she tried to muster a believable smile. 'I know my way to the Great Hall, there's no need for you to wait.'

Tom Riddle's misleadingly beguiling face betrayed nothing of what thoughts ticked behind those calculating eyes and he gave a slight wave of his hand. 'The Professor asked me to escort you, I will at least see you back to the Great Hall.'

'It's really not necessary, I've already made you miss part of class after all.'

'Not such a dire consequence,' he dismissed once more. 'I'd taken the liberty of a little forward reading in class anyway; that spell was nothing unknown to me.'

'I thought that too.' Hermione murmured, idly rubbing her arm.

Her shoulders jerked as there was a soft rumble of laughter from Riddle and they practically lodged in her ears as he pushed off the wall and came to stand beside the bed. 'Perhaps Mr. Lucius is not so well practised.'

'I won't be helping him practise again.' Hermione muttered, earning yet another chuckle and she pursed her lips sharply. The nurse was taking an awfully long time for a simple discharge form.

'May I?' Riddle held out a hand and, after a moment of blank staring, Hermione reluctantly moved her arm into his grasp, a horrific, icy shudder wracking her entire body as his fingers closed around her skin. His eyes roved what little was left of the red ring her robes had left and his cold touch traced the bright pink of the seams.

'It's nothing, really, just a bit surprising.' Hermione slid her arm from his grasp, once again, perhaps a little too quickly as she cradled it against herself.

'Yes,' Riddle murmured thoughtfully. 'A lot of that going around.'

Choosing to ignore the depth to his tone, Hermione offered a tight lipped smile, followed by a genuine one as Nurse Mallard reappeared with her papers which she signed in a hurried scrawl and practically leaped from the bed. Riddle held the door open once more and, as she wondered if she would ever know the touch of a door handle again, Hermione vaguely motioned in the direction of the Great Hall.

'As I said, I know my way from here, so...,' she trailed off.

'Perhaps unsurprisingly, I too have my lunch break now, Miss Viktor,' Riddle raised a jet black eyebrow. 'I'll accompany you.'

Knowing any further arguing would be suspicious, Hermione fell into step as Riddle settled back into his quiet, unsettling study. The girl was pleasant to look at with her feminine figure and long, kept curls and yet there was something distinctly uneasy about her. She reminded him of the Hogwarts paintings; made to look like something and yet moved with a purpose and knowledge completely unique to itself. Curious, of course, but not enough to pursue her or her odd friends and delay his own purpose, he had come too far for that.

'HERMIONE!'

Riddle flinched from his thoughts and Hermione leapt into the air as Merida rounded the corner, almost taking a chunk of it with her, as she grasped Hermione's shoulders.

'They told me you were in the Hospital Wing! What's wrong? Are you okay?'

'I'm fine, Merida,' she coaxed the Prefect's claw-like grip away. 'Just a little spell mishap. It was nothing, really.'

'It seems you are in...eager hands here, Miss Viktor,' Riddle gave a civil nod of his head. 'I'll leave you here.'

'Thank you.' Hermione smiled with clenched teeth, feeling a physical weight rise from her shoulders as the raven haired sorcerer made a path to the Slytherin table; students parting for him like the Red Sea before Moses.

'Come on, come eat, tell me everything.' Merida dragged Hermione toward the Ravenclaw table, almost losing her balance as she pulled herself away as politely as possible.

'I actually had something quick to eat at the Hospital Wing,' Hermione lied, 'I think I'll go check in with my friends, I know Ron can get lost easily and that is a story I would want to hear.'

Merida mouthed 'check in' with a slight frown, repeating it over and over as she took a solo seat at the Ravenclaw table.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Once again i want to say thanks to the anonymous review who got in touch after my last update. Your words were so kind and I am so sorry to hear you've been having a tough time. I really do wish you all the best and hope I can provide you with a little escapism at least. ENJOY!**

 **CHAPTER 5**

The rest of the day thankfully passed with minimal backfiring spells and, after a berating by Ron and Harry, Draco seemed sufficiently cowed. The foursome gathered at the end of the day, having made their excuses at dinner and set up in the back of the library. Ron focused on making hos house of books stand up as Harry seemed to still be stewing about the earlier mishap.

'It was an accident Harry.'

'It sure drew attention though, didn't it?'

'It's not as though that was my devious plan all along, Potter.'

'What do you think Riddle meant about a lot of surprising stuff going on lately?'

Hermione shrugged with a resigned sigh. 'I don't know, maybe it wasn't any deeper than the four of us turning up out of the blue.'

'Do you really think that?' Harry cocked an eyebrow.

'No, not really, but I have nothing better right now.'

'As fun as it is to dissect Riddle's every comment,' Draco groaned. 'I think it's about time we tried to make some kind of plan to get the detection ball rolling.'

'And what do you propose?'

'Anything is better than what we're doing.'

'We've been here two days,' Ron scoffed. 'What do you expect?'

'Something. I don't want to stay in this time with that man sleeping three beds from me for any longer than absolutely necessary.'

Hermione felt a lump of guilt in the pit of her stomach as she came to realise she didn't fully consider Draco's position; he was on the ground floor for their mission. With a resolute nod, she splayed her palms on the table to welcome ideas.

'Alright, so we need to make sure the Dumbledore in this time is worried enough about Riddle that he keeps a close eye on him and, when he opens the Chamber of Secrets, he's thrown out.' harry shrugged.

'I don't know that it can work that way.' Hermione shook her head.

'Why not?'

'How would we know when he's opened it? The only reason anyone knew the first time was because of what happened to Myrtle,' she ran her hand through her hair. 'And even if we did know, we can't be sure Hagrid's expulsion wasn't a contributing factor to keeping Riddle on Professor Dumbledore's radar.'

'So we just let Hagrid get expelled?'

'I know it's sad, Harry, but maybe it's also necessary.'

'I don't buy that, surely we can save Myrtle and Hagrid and still make sure people know what Riddle is capable of.'

'Merlin's beard, Potter, what world are you living in?'

'Draco...,'

'No, I'm not letting him drag this out because he has to be the hero; we were sent here to set the future back in motion by whatever means. The old man said that himself,' Draco's eyes grew steely. 'Settle that in your mind however you need to, Potter, but do it soon. Maybe we can save the girl and maybe we can keep that oaf in school until he fails of his own accord, but that's not why we're here.'

Harry's eyes narrowed and Ron's ears turned red as he looked between the two boys. Hermione rose a little from her seat and placed a hand down between them, hoping to diffuse the tension.

'Hey...Enough, both of you,' she said softly. 'Draco's right; we're here to set things straight, but Harry's right too; maybe we can do some more good while we're here, okay?'

Neither boy even seemed to blink for a time, the library mirroring the terse silence perfectly, and the squeak of Hermione's chair as she settled back down seemed to echo. Finally Draco's jaw relaxed as he unclenched his teeth and Harry's shoulders dropped, both giving a short nod of understanding as Hermione puffed a sigh.

'Okay, good,' she nodded. 'Now, as for the plan. We need to find out what stage of _his_ plan Riddle is up to; that way we can be around to intercept and get proof to the Professor.'

'And just how do we do that?' Draco drawled.

'You're his bunk buddy,' Harry smirked. 'You're going to have to start getting chatty with him.'

'Watch yourself, Potter.'

'He's right though,' Hermione grimaced. 'You're the only one with access and an excuse to try and delve into his plans.'

'What excuse is that?' he scoffed. 'We're in the same house? Believe it or not, Gryffindors, not every Slytherin was a Death Eater.'

'I'll go not.'

'Ron!'

'They might not all have been followers, but it was definitely his first recruiting pool,' Harry interjected. 'This is when he started gathering followers, we know that for a fact, this is the best chance we have to find out what he's doing without sneaking around and risking getting caught.'

'Any idea on the exact date he started dishing out the Dark Mark, Potter?' Draco spat. 'I think that might impede my future a little, don't you?'

'Only by a year or two.' Ron murmured, yelping as Hermione kicked him sharply under the table.

'It's not a perfect plan!' harry threw up his hands in frustration. 'But it's something and it's the best option we have to get moving now, that's what you wanted, right?'

'That's why we're here, yes.' Draco admitted through gritted teeth.

'Then that's what needs to happen; get in good with Riddle and his buddies so we know when they're planning to move.' Harry stood from the desk, nudging Ron. 'There's a welcome thing in the Gryffindor common room for us. It's the weekend tomorrow, so we'll all meet up outside after breakfast, right?'

Draco said nothing, but gave enough of a nod to signal he'd likely be there and Hermione promised too as she watched Ron and Harry shuffle away.

The silence was uncomfortable and Hermione could almost hear Draco's jaw clenching and relaxing with every breath he took. His hands were clenched tightly on the desk, his knuckles a vivid white and his Adam's apple bobbed impatiently.

Clearing her throat nervously, Hermione shifted to face Malfoy. 'I know the plan isn't ideal...,'

'Ideal?' he snapped, making her jump. 'Do you have any idea what's at stake if Riddle or any of his followers suspect I'm not loyal?'

'I have a vague idea.'

'Does it frighten you?'

'...Yes.'

'Then try to imagine the fright of potentially living it,' Draco dropped back into the seat with a huff. 'I thought we came back to prevent that lunatic from controlling my life.'

'Draco...,' Hermione struggled to find words; not being accustomed to comforting the usually glib Slytherin. Thankfully he waved of the gesture with a more resigned groan.

'Don't bother, Granger, I know it's got to be done,' he admitted. 'Doesn't mean I have to like it.'

'Id be worried if you did.'

* * *

The night was uneventful for Hermione; exchanging a few polite words with her fellow Ravenclaws before settling herself in for a night of restless dreams. Harry and Ron made themselves social at their welcome party, enjoying a few smuggled Butterbeers before both falling into pleasantly tipsy slumber. Draco, on the other hand, had dawdled every step back to the common room, only quickening his steps when he realised he would break curfew soon enough. The halls were empty, save for his reluctant pace, and even his words dragged as he coaxed the Slytherin portrait open.

The common room was quiet; the embers of the fire casting a faintly crimson haze over the few studious pupils still hunched over their work. They didn't stir as Draco silently passed and made his way to the bedroom; hoping all would be quiet there too. Certainly it was hushed as he entered, but it was hard to miss the dozen or so empty beds where his fellow fifth years usually slept. Narrowing his eyes, he couldn't spy the missing students and, although he knew their mission, he was reluctant to search any harder.

'Lucius, you're almost past curfew.' The tone was chilling and the warning clearly unrelated to Hogwarts rules.

Draco straightened immediately, wiping the glare from his face before turning to see a permanently nonplussed Tom Riddle approaching from the far side. Affixing his best chastised look, he nodded crisply before jerking a thumb toward his bed.

'I got turned around coming from the library, still getting used to this place. I was just going to bed.'

'This castle can be a dangerous place after dark,' Riddle tilted his head ever so slightly. 'Especially if you don't know your place.'

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Draco nodded once more. 'I understand, it won't happen again.'

There was a pause and a whir of malicious thoughts in the mind of the future Dark Lord as he considered Draco for a time. Even at the same age, Riddle had mastered the art of making someone feel splayed open for him to read and pull apart. It was with great restraint that he held his ground and didn't fidget under the heavy scrutiny, almost heaving a sigh of relief when Riddle finally glanced away.

'Since you're here anyway,' he mused softly. 'Perhaps we should make you feel more welcome in our revered house.'

'I don't think I follow, isn't it past curfew?'

'Curfew can be a matter of opinion, depending on your standing,' Riddle motioned for Draco to follow him. 'Come along then.'

Draco fell into step, as he would in the future too, and kept his hand clenched around his wand as Riddle lead him past slumbering students and to the far end of the room. It was dark; darker than it should be for such a clear night and the wall was invisible in the black. Squinting to see further didn't help and soon Draco stumbled to a halt as Riddle spun to face him, pressing a long, spider-like finger to his lips.

The shadow swallowed Riddle as he stepped forward and, mentally swearing to haunt the Gryffindor tower for eternity if this was his demise, Draco followed after. For several steps he was blind; he couldn't distinguish anything on the floor or walls around him and only the sound of Riddle's steps lead him in the right direction. Soon enough there was a vague ambient glow in front of him; highlighting Riddle's silhouette and that of several kneeling people in a plain, stone-walled room ahead.

Although their heads were down, Draco somehow felt all eye son him as he stepped inside and turned to see Riddle closely watching his reaction.

'What is this?'

'This is one of our little get togethers,' Riddle smirked. 'Tell me Lucius, what do you see for your future? What do you want from it?'

'Success,' Draco shrugged plainly, having spent enough time in the company of Slytherins and Purebloods to know what they like dot hear. 'Power and influence, what any sane man wants, really.'

There was a scattering of approving nods from the kneeling followers although Riddle's face was as unreadable as ever. 'And what do you see as the biggest obstacles in your path?'

'The dilution of Pureblood magic, I suppose and the insistence on castrating our own abilities for the sake of humans,' Draco tried to spit the word form his mouth. 'A stance I never fully understood.'

There was a moment of panic for Draco that he had given too good of an answer, almost tailor made, but when Riddle quirked the barest hint of a smile, he relaxed. Perhaps their slip ups hadn't broken their cover as much as he feared and, as the Slytherin prefect motioned for him to join the others, Draco knew he had made the best and worst move possible.

* * *

'I'm just saying, professional tournament eater and successful wizard don't have to be opposites.'

'They do if you ever want a broom to lift you again.'

'If Dad ever fixes up that car then I won't need one.'

'You should definitely rely on that, I say go for it.' Harry shook his head with a grin while Hermione shook hers, only half listening as she poured over their Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook.

'You'll be sorry you didn't support me, mate, when I have a Chocolate Frog sponsorship and all the Bertie Botts I can eat.'

'Which is two until you find a tomato flavoured one.'

'They're disgusting!'

'You've eaten a toenail flavoured one!'

'And?'

'Would both of you shut up? I'd like to keep my breakfast down.' Hermione groaned, snapping the book shut as she caught Draco's approach from the corner of her eye. 'And remember what we talked about; be nice.'

'But it's Malfoy.'

'It's Lucius for now and we're on the same team, so shush.'

Earning a glare from Ron, Hermione gave Draco a small wave as he came to sit with the others. The dark circles under his eyes were stark against his pale complexion and even Harry looked concerned.

'You look like Hell,' Ron blurted, motioning under his eyes. 'What happened to you?'

'Diplomatic as ever, Scabbers,' Draco groaned, leaning back against the tree. 'What happened to me was while you and Privet were being social butterflies, I was actually moving on with our plan.'

'You actually spoke to Riddle?' Hermione balked.

'He caught me coming back form the library and decided to initiate me into his club it seems. They were having a meeting last night and I walked in on it; he asked me to join.'

'What did you say?'

'What do you think I said?' he snapped. 'I told him what he wanted to hear and sat in. I thought that's what you all wanted.'

'It is, but I didn't realise it would be so soon.' Hermione murmured, feeling the tension knot in her stomach.

'He'll be fine, 'Mione,' Ron waved off her terse look. 'Nothing he hasn't been knee deep in before, right?'

'That's not the point,' Hermione quickly hissed. 'So what happened, Draco?'

'He's moving fast; faster than I think even the old man realised when he sent us at this time. He's definitely planning on opening the Chamber and soon. He knows where it is, but hasn't fully understood how to open it.'

'What?' Harry's eyes widened.

'I didn't stutter.'

'I know, but he's that far? I thought Dumbledore sent us here to bide some time and get a plan.'

'Well obviously the old man's calculations were off.'

'Maybe not,' Hermione chewed her lip in thought. 'Maybe he's just not psychic.'

'What, Viktor?'

'Riddle took his time and researched how to open the Chamber originally because he had nothing to worry about, nothing spurring him on. Maybe us dropping in like we did changed things.'

'How?' Ron frowned.

'We might have changed Riddle's perceptions on the castle a bit, added an unknown factor he didn't and couldn't plan for. Seems like something that would rile him up.' Hermione shrugged.

The boys exchanged confused and slightly worried glances before Harry cleared his throat. 'Hermione, have you been taking Psychology of the Dark Lord in one of your extra time-turner classes or something? How could you know that?'

'It's not difficult, Harry,' Hermione snapped, not liking the implications. 'We already knew Tom Riddle was precocious and ambitious for his age. Anyone with those traits doesn't like hitches in a carefully thought out plan.'

'She's right,' Draco shuddered. 'He does not like things going off the rail.'

'Okay, so assuming that's true, we just sped him up?' Harry waved his hands, the panic starting to creep into his voice.

'I think so, yes,' Hermione cringed. 'Which means we need to be ready.'

'To what?' he cried. 'We haven't come close to figuring out how to tip off Dumbledore in this time.'

'Keep your voice down, Privet,' Draco hissed, glancing around to ensure they didn't draw attention. 'Unless you're planning a think tank with half our year.'

'Then we'll have to come up with one and fast,' Hermione shrugged as nonchalantly as she could. 'Draco's given us the best lead we could have, at least we know the time frame so instead of panicking, let's figure something out.'

'How?'

'You and Ron go check out the bathroom where the entrance is, see if you can see any signs of Riddle tampering with it or any reason they might need to close it for maintenance and buy us some time.'

'Minor vandalism?' Ron perked up. 'Fred and George will be chuffed when I tell them.'

'Draco, I know this is a lot to ask considering last night, but maybe you should go spend time with Riddle's followers at least. Get in their good books so if they get suspicious of anyone, it won't be you.'

'You better have a damn near perfect plan at the end of all this, Granger.' Draco growled a she stood, dusting the grass from his pants and striding over to a group of Slytherin boys by the lake.

'What are you going to do, 'Mione?' Ron asked over his shoulder as Harry cleaned his glasses.

'I'm going to the library to-,'

Ron held up a hand to cut her off. 'Do your Hermione thing, I got it. We'll see you at lunch.'

Rolling her eyes, Hermione gathered her books and tried to make as slow of a journey to library as she could, occasionally pausing to look down halls as though lost. Finally in the familiar comfort of her old sanctuary though, she dropped the act and made a straight line for the sections she needed. With an armful of books and an aching back, she set up a nest of tomes and parchment in the far back corner.

The stacks of books were taller than her carefully charmed curls and blocked from the rest of the room; suiting her just fine considering the trial it had been to shake Merida off that morning. Crossing her legs beneath her skirt and idly chewing on the end of her quill, as was her guilty vice, Hermione poured over many of the same books she had read in their second year. Although they were in considerably better condition now and small patches of previously worn away text were now vivid and clear.

Her mind being the steel trap it was, Hermione had forgotten very little of what she already knew of the Basilisk and the Chamber of Secrets, but her purpose was different this time. She needed to use the chamber and the beast's abilities to warn others and create suspicion rather than simply identify and stop it. Something she was coming to realise would be a much harder task. Mirrors, cameras, water even skin from the massive creature could be their ticket to fixing the future, but she could not force a coherent plan to form in her mind. Just the barest bones of possibilities and time was not on their side to plan.

The hours ticked by, her only inkling that she had missed lunch was a slight rumbling of her stomach and the few she shared the library with finally leaving. In the stark silence, her inability to form a plan only grate don her nerves more. The image of Draco's worn face made her fidget in her seat; it would be a hint of what was to come she was sure.

'Come on, Hermione,' she murmured under her breath. 'There's something here, just see it.'

As she re-read the passage about the basilisk's ability to survive many years with only minimal food, there was the sound of another among the bookshelves. Barely giving it a second thought, Hermione traced her finger back and forth over the lines as though she might feel the answer. After several more minutes of frustration, Hermione let out a huffy groan and dropped her head onto the book.

'It's pointless.'

'Reading from that close, I imagine it seems so.'

She sat bolt upright, her eyes wide and her throat tight as she saw Tom Riddle eyeing her over a stack of Hogwarts History books.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

If it was possible for a marble statue to take life then Tom Riddle had found a way; his expression was inscrutable as he stared at a startled Hermione snapping her book shut. She hissed, catching the tip of her finger under the weight and trying to regain some kind of composure.

'You've made quite the fortress,' Riddle gestured to the book barriers she had erected around herself. 'Although I'm not accustomed to Beauxbatons practices, here at Hogwarts we tend to read the books.'

'I'm aware of that,' Hermione muttered, trying to keep her tone demure. 'I just wasn't sure which one I would need.'

'So you took an entire section, to be sure?'

'I'm thorough.'

'I see that,' Riddle lifted one of the smaller books from the stack, idly flipping through the pages before giving a little sigh. 'It seems we have similar taste though, I came to borrow that book you decided to head-butt.'

Feeling the colour drain from her face, Hermione instinctively clutched the book a little tighter. 'Oh, um, I see, I uh actually need this for an assignment.'

'Oh, which one might that be?'

'Defense Against the Dark Arts,' she blurted out, thinking it would be the only possible class asking about such creatures. 'I'll be done soon, I don't think I'll even borrow it. I'll leave it here if you like.'

Riddle's eyebrow twitched for the briefest of moments as though he thought to raise it, but his face rested as passive as ever and he gave a soft nod.

'Very well, I'll come back for it this evening.'

'Good, I mean, okay, that sounds good.'

Carefully placing the book he held back on the pile, Riddle turned calmly on heel and left the library without another word and Hermione's heart started beating once more. Making sure he had indeed left, Hermione shoved back the history books into their shelves and hurriedly checked out the one she had held tight to her chest since Riddle eyed it. She knew it was risky, in fact just plain dumb, but if there was any chance of delaying the future Dark lord from opening the Chamber of Secrets, she couldn't pass it up.

Flashing a hurried smile to the sluggish librarian, Hermione gathered her bag and quickly walked back to the Great Hall where the loud murmur of chatter told her she had studied clear through to dinner. Seeing Merida's excitable hand shoot up into the air was almost a relief; just to see a friendly face.

'Are those library books?' Merida pried open Hermione's satchel with a bread stick and a mouthful of pumpkin soup. 'On a weekend?'

Hermione quickly flipped it shut once more. 'I don't like the idea of falling behind; I rather enjoy school.'

'Its only been three days, Hermione,' Merida chuckled. 'You'll get there.'

'But this way I can be sure.'

'Oh boy, I see I'm gonna have to show you how to have fun around here,' she continued to giggle. 'Don't worry you'll take it like a Nargle to jelly.'

Not sure if it was even possible to refute the point, Hermione settled for a smile and helped herself to a generous plate of almost everything. The day of stress had caught up with her appetite and she happily chewed through a dripping piece of garlic bread. Idly listening to parts of Merida telling the boy beside her about the curative properties of Devil's Snare and two other Ravenclaws opposite planning for the upcoming Quidditch match almost felt like home. Almost.

She soon cleaned her plate and made her excuses to Merida, who for once didn't argue as it seemed to she cornered someone, and caught Harry's gaze at the Gryffindor table. A swift elbow to Ron's ribs had the three of them meeting the hallway, making a swift path to the Gryffindor common room.

They found a cosy corner and Hermione shoved her book over to Harry who turned it over in his hands.

'A book?'

'The same book I used to research what was in the chamber the first time.'

'Really?' He looked at it with a new reverence. 'Is there something new in it?'

'Not exactly, no,' Hermione twisted her fingers in her hands. 'I was reading it again today to see if anything jumped out that could help us and Riddle found me.'

Ron somehow managed a spit-take without drinking anything. 'Did he see what you were reading?'

'He said he wanted to borrow it,' she nodded. 'I told him I'd leave it behind this evening once I was done, but I, I don't know I thought if I had it it might delay him a little.'

'...You're mad.'

'I might be.'

'Hermione, we're trying _not_ to get in his way.' Harry hissed.

'I know, I know, but what was I going to do? We don't know what last piece of the puzzle he needs to open that chamber and we are so far behind. It seemed like the only choice.'

Looking displeased, but not arguing the point, Harry stared blankly at the book once more. 'So what do we do with it? We can't destroy it or you'll never figure out what happened in our second year.'

'I don't think it would stop Riddle anyway,' Hermione shook her head. 'I'll take it back tomorrow.'

'And what if he asks?' Ron cried.

'I'll just say I forgot and apologise,' she shrugged. 'Honest mistake.'

' _Honest_.'

'What about you two?' Hermione stared pointedly at the Gryffindor pair. 'How did you go in the bathroom together?'

'Not so loud,' Ron gestured for her to shut up. 'Don't say it like that.'

'No obvious signs of what Riddle's been trying in there to open it, but we did manage to tamper with the plumbing a little. Notified the caretaker so it should be out of bounds for tonight at least.'

'That's something,' Hermione ran a hand through her curls. 'He doesn't have the book or the bathroom tonight, so that's time on our side.'

'Yeah, but what can we do with it?' Ron sighed.

'Where's Malfoy, by the way?' Harry glanced around as though he might have just overlooked him.

'Last I saw he was having dinner with Riddle and the other Slytherins,' Hermione lamented. 'Doing his part to fit in, I guess. I don't envy that.'

'I actually feel bad for him,' Ron admitted. 'I don't like it.'

The trio sat in the warmth of the fire for the next few hours, tolerating the occasional bout of small talk from passing students as they tried to grasp some semblance of a plan. Everything from faking blood writing on the wall, as in their year, to transfiguring parchment into massive reels of snake skin was discussed. Nothing sounded right though and as the night drew on the suggestions grew more preposterous and their tempers shorter.

Eventually Hermione halted an argument between herself and Ron by throwing a hand into the air and standing from her chair.

'Enough, it's enough now. We're talking in circles and just getting cranky. We're clearly not cracking this tonight,' she threw her bag over her shoulder, stuffing her borrowed book inside. 'We all need sleep.'

'She's right,' Harry yawned. 'C'mon, Ron, let's get some rest and we'll try to make something useful out of all this tomorrow.'

Hermione wished them both a clipped goodnight and threaded herself through the entrance into the deserted hall. The stairs had moved since making her way up and she was forced to backtrack some ways to find a set that would lead her back to the Ravenclaw common room. Her steps grew hurried as she was sure she would be breaking curfew soon enough and, even after all these years, the Hogwarts halls at night gave her the creeps.

Hermione rounded the corner to see a staircase leading directly up to the portrait and she hurried up it, her satchel swinging by her side. She pressed it to her thigh as she rummaged for her wand to see the right portrait; having spent five years in another common room.

' _Lumos_.' A soft glow grew from the tip of her wand and Hermione stumbled back, biting down a shriek as it cascaded over the high cheek bones and nonplussed expression of Tom Riddle.

'These halls are well lit before curfew,' he said flatly. 'Miss Viktor, I believe you have been with us long enough to know when that is.'

'I know, I'm sorry, I just lost track of time and forgot.'

'A persistent problem of yours, it would seem.'

'I'm sorry?'

'The book, Miss Viktor,' Riddle sighed, his eyes darting to Hermione's satchel. 'The one you said you would leave at the library.'

'Oh...Oh! Yes, of course,' Hermione fiddled with the clasp of her bag, chancing a look over her shoulder before back at the imposing Prefect. 'I'm sorry, I guess I just...,'

'Forgot?' He prompted.

'Yes, that,' Hermione clenched her fist behind her back, hating how frazzled she felt and tried to calm herself. 'I am sorry, I didn't finish all the reading I needed to do, so I borrowed it. I'll be done tomorrow.'

'Miss Viktor...,' Riddle took an idle step forward and Hermione planted her feet for fear of falling down the stairs. 'As scatterbrained as you might be, I don't think you would imagine an assignment.'

'What? No, I-,'

'And as you must recall, you and I have the same Defense Against the Dark Arts class,' His eyes darkened slightly as he spoke. 'And nowhere, in the given assignments since you and your friends have joined us, does anything call for the use of that book. So I find myself wondering just what would cause a young lady to lie about such things.'

Riddle had stalked slowly closer as he spoke, coming to stand directly before Hermione as she was forced to look up to meet his gaze. She could hear Professor Dumbledore's warning in the back of her mind and tried to convince herself to blend in, to be demure. There was something swirling in the inky darkness of his eyes though, something she knew would only linger and grow as he became less Riddle and more Voldemort. The memories of that malice ran too deep and Hermione's own stubbornness pushed out the Headmaster's warning as she flashed a terse smile.

'Mr. Riddle,' she mimicked his condescending tone as best she could. 'I don't know Hogwarts practises that well yet, but in my experience students with authority aren't encouraged to interrogate other students in the dead of night over a book.'

'Interrogate?' Riddle mused gently.

'As for the book, I don't need to explain why I need it for an assignment that you clearly don't have the imagination to understand,' Hermione hitched her bag higher, motioning to the portrait he currently blocked. 'Now, if you plan on taking me to the Headmaster, then be my guest, if not I'd appreciate it if you'd step out of the way so I can go to bed.'

He was like a statue. Motionless, his gaze never wavering and more intense than Hermione would like to admit. She could feel her heart in her throat and her brain planning a sharp exit as the future Dark Lord considered the doe eyed brunette for what felt like an age. There was the barest twitch of the corner of his pale lips, whether it meant to be a sneer or a smile, Hermione couldn't tell and it was gone too soon.

'Given your circumstances, I think I can overlook your first infraction,' he said softly, his tone oddly dark for such a gesture. 'Just once though.'

'Thank you, I know you Prefects have a job to do.'

Definitely a smile this time, but not a kind one as he leant slightly closer until his cool breath tickled the tip of Hermione's nose. 'I'm not talking about curfew, my dear. Do be more careful in future.'

Wordlessly, Hermione watched as Riddle strolled confidently down the stairs, never flinching even as they began to swing mid-step. She watching him disappear into one of the castles many shadows and hurriedly blurted the pass-phrase to the portrait. Careful not to wake any other students, Hermione slipped her bag beneath her bed and climbed under the covers in her clothes. Clutching the pillow tightly to her, Hermione angrily wiped away a single rebellious tear and growled at herself to be strong. She knew damn well she should have bitten her tongue and played the shy new girl and was furious her Gryffindor nature had gotten the best of her.

With everything Draco was going through to keep them in the loop, everything they were risking to set the timeline straight and she had lost her temper and possibly jeopardised everything.

'Might have found his radar...,'

* * *

The next morning was rushed for Hermione as she practically fell through the library doors and returned the troublesome book as soon as she could. Charming her unruly mane on the way to the Great Hall, she plopped down beside Merida with a tired huff.

'Morning!' she chirped, slinging Hermione a plate piled with toast and egg. 'Excited for your first game?'

'I'm sorry?' Hermione prodded the scrambled egg.

'Quidditch! We're playing Gryffindor today, didn't you hear?'

'Oh, no. I didn't.'

Merida's pale, usually flushed complexion creased into a frown. 'What's wrong? You're bluer than a Zora this morning.'

'I'm sorry, Merida,' Hermione tried to muster a smile. 'Just a rough night's sleep. I think I'll go get some fresh air to wake up.'

'I'll come too!'

'No, no, it's fine,' Hermione caught Merida halfway off the bench. 'You eat your breakfast, I'll see you at the Quidditch match, okay?'

Merida agreed readily, clearly eager for another piece of jam smeared toast, and Hermione slipped out of the hall and outside without bumping into anyone. She found a shaded place beneath an old tree nearby to the Quidditch stands and dropped her head to her knees. At least she hadn't lied to the ray of Ravenclaw sunshine; she'd barely slept the night before. The guilt had wracked her mind into a few scattered nightmares until she had simply given up on the idea of rest.

Everyone else was doing their part; Hell, Draco slept within feet of his future tormentor and she couldn't hold it together for one conversation. Digging her fingertips into her legs as she hugged them, Hermione felt a tear roll down her cheek at the thought.

Her attention shot up though as she heard someone settle beside her under the tree, glancing over to see Draco propping himself up. 'I swear if one more person asks me to speak German I might just bow our cover.'

'Get in line.' Hermione hurriedly wiped the tear away, but not in time to escape Draco's notice as he turned to her.

'Granger...What's wrong with you?'

'Nothing I just-,'

'Don't lie to me, for Merlin's sake,' he sighed, dropping his head back against the tree. 'We've got a mutual enemy for now.'

Hermione was startled by his sudden refute and she stared at him for a moment or two before nodding, he was right after all. 'I ran into Riddle last night, outside the Ravenclaw common room.'

'What happened?'

'He was looking for a book he saw me reading earlier, I said I'd leave it in the library for him, but I didn't. It had information about the Basilisk in it, I thought I could buy us a little more time if I kept it.'

'Granger...,'

'I know, I know,' she waved his tone off, feeling tears prick the back of her eyes once more. 'He told me he knew it wasn't for a school assignment and I kind of, a little, tried to put him in his place.'

'You did _what?'_

'I don't know, I just, I saw that look in his eyes, Draco,' Hermione ran her hands roughly through her hair and shook her head. 'He's already so evil, so sure of his power and I lost my temper. It was dumb and I should have listened to Professor Dumbledore and I might have just ruined everything. Everything you've had to put up with now and in the future, not to mention Harry and Ron's futures! I ruined everything-,'

Hermione choked back a sob as tears began to flow and Draco raised his hand to pause her mid-rant, shaking his head. 'Stop it, Granger.'

'Stop what?'

'This, whatever this is. This isn't you. You're a lot of really annoying things like a bookworm, a know-it-all, a killjoy, a Gryffindor princess-,'

'When is this supposed to start helping?' Hermione wiped a tear from her eye.

'But you're a lot of other annoying things like stubborn and strong and completely unaware of your own limitations,' Draco finished with a wry stare. 'You might be a mud-...Muggle-born, but you're the only witch or wizard I wouldn't want to challenge for all the Galleons in Gringotts.

'...Why are you saying all of this?'

'Because I need you at the top of your game to get through this,' Draco shrugged, looking back toward the Quidditch stands as students began to file out of the castle. 'And because no one will believe you if you tell them I said any of this.'

Finally finding a real laugh for the first time that day, Hermione chuckled and wiped the last tear from her cheek. 'True enough.'

'Maybe Riddle will be paying a little more attention after what you said, but maybe that will be enough to slow him down too,' Draco stood, brushing the grass form his dark grey pants and holding out a hand to Hermione. 'So stop your blubbering and let's go spoil his plans.'

* * *

While most of the school was safely distracted by the Quidditch match, Hermione and Draco met up with Ron and Harry in the library to fill them in on the night prior. After weathering the expected barrage of concern and frowns she had expected, Hermione was able to direct them back to forming a plan.

'I don't want to be the one to say it, but it seems like there really does need to be some kind of tragedy to get the kind of reaction we need.' Ron ventured.

'Myrtle doesn't have to die.' Harry snapped.

'I didn't say let's go snap her neck now, did I?'

'Wouldn't help anyway, Basilisks don't snap necks.'

'Thanks Malfoy, that helps.'

'Maybe the reason we don't have a plan is you boys can't stop bickering for five seconds,' Hermione groaned, slamming her hand son the table. 'Focus, please. Now, we don't need to kill Myrtle with a Basilisk to get suspicion thrown on Riddle; we just need something to happen that only he could have pulled off. Something someone like Dumbledore, who already feels uneasy about him, might take as a red flag.'

'Why does the old man already suspect him?'

'He did from day one, from what the Professor says,' Hermione shuddered. 'Even when he was a little boy he seemed intent on power.'

'He's already waging a personal war on non-Purebloods.'

'Hobby of a lifetime,' Harry murmured. 'None of this is getting us where we need to be though. I think the answer is going to be more direct.'

'What do you mean, Potter?'

'I mean, I think we need to wait until he opens the Chamber of Secrets for the first time and follow him. We need to see what he's planning and get whatever evidence we can to Professor Dumbledore.'

'And how do we explain that to him?' Ron snorted.

'Does it matter?' Harry scoffed. 'We just need to set the wheels in motion and then we can go home.'

'You want to walk into that place with that beast and what, take pictures?' Draco frowned. 'Never mind the question of how we'd get in unseen, but how do you expect to keep out of the way of the Basilisk if we do?'

'I've done it before,' Harry spat. 'You wanted a plan, Malfoy, and that's what I've given you. Got anything better?'

'Literally anything.'

'Stop it, both of you,' Hermione hissed. 'Harry's right, it's all we've got for now and if you want this over with quickly Draco it's probably our best bet.'

Draco threw up and exasperated hand, but stayed silent while Harry allowed himself a moment of gloating with a grin before getting a warning look from Hermione. She tapped her fingertips on the table as she tried to piece together the idea into something workable, knowing they didn't have the usual aid of Harry's cloak this time.

'Draco, you'll need to find out when exactly he plans on opening the chamber.'

'Sure, I'll check his diary.'

'I'm serious.'

'You can't be.'

She narrowed her eyes. 'Like it or not, we're all on his radar now so we should use it to our advantage where we can. If you can find out when he intends to open it then maybe we can even arrange for Professor Dumbledore to be nearby, maybe we won't have to go in at all.'

'Now that's a better plan.' Ron nodded happily, quietly not relishing the idea of coming face to face with a giant snake.

'I can go along with that.' Harry nodded.

'Once again, I'll have to do the dirty work.' Draco growled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

'Have you done any other kind?'

'Some of us don't feel the need to be the hero in every story, Potter.'

'Or any.'

'Enough,' Hermione stood up, her cheeks flushing a frustrated pink. 'We have a plan. Draco, get us as close of a date as you can, Harry and Ron, maybe it's time to make closer friends with Professor Dumbledore so he trusts us.'

Ron frowned, raising a finger. 'If we get to know Dumbledore now, won't he remember us in the future?'

'Probably.' Harry shrugged.

'Then shouldn't he already know if we succeeded or not, wouldn't he know? Maybe that's why he sent us back, he remembered us from now in the future.'

'...Weasley, you are a walking conversational cul-de-sac.'


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

Once Ron had finished talking everyone in circles, the foursome parted ways and Hermione found herself at a loose end; knowing she wanted to got o library but frightened to bump into Riddle again. Instead she returned to the dorm room and sat on her bed in a deep thought. Draco's unexpectedly reassuring words were bouncing around in her mind and she mused on just how frightened he must be to use them. They hadn't lingered enough in their new version of the future to know exactly how bad it was, but with Lucius as Headmaster she could make a few assumptions. Hermione was so deep down the rabbit hole of what was possible that she barely stirred when Merida came into the dorm.

She snapped to attention when the pint-sized Prefect leaped on her bed though, shaking her awake. 'Hey! Hermione? You alive in there?'

'I'm fine, sorry, just got lost in thought.'

'Must have been one heck of a thought, you missed the Quidditch game!'

'Oh no, that's right!' Hermione feigned disappointment. 'How did it go, did we win?'

'No, it was close though! The team is in the common room sulking so I thought I'd come up here. At least you're not studying this time.'

'What's wrong with studying?'

'On a weekend? Lots of things, Hermione! What kind of madhouse were they running at Beaubatons?'

'No, they made fun of me for how much I studied at my old school too,' Hermione chuckled softly. 'It kind of makes me feel at home.'

Merida's smile chipped a little and she tucked her legs under, folding her hand son her lap. 'Why did you leave your old school, Hermione? I don't think I've asked.'

'I had to.'

'But why?'

'It wasn't safe to stay any longer.'

'Not safe?' She frowned deeply. 'Why wouldn't it be safe?'

'Look, Merida, this isn't the easiest thing to talk about.'

'Oh come on, Hermione, you can't spend the rest of your life couped up in a room with books. You have to talk to someone sometime, why not me?'

Seeing the eager, naive charm in Merida's eyes echoed Luna's to an almost uncomfortable degree and Hermione felt her resolve melting. '...Our parents were opposing Grindelwald back home and it seems they were gaining some ground. He got word of it and...and...,' Hermione's words choked convincingly.

Merida reached out to rest a hand on her knee. 'Oh Hermione...,'

'When we found out, we knew we had to run and this was the safest place we could think of.'

'You'll all be safe here,' Merida nodded. 'I'm so sorry, Hermione. That's just awful.'

'Thank you.'

'I don't really know much about Grindelwald, my parents don't like to talk about him.'

'I can understand why.'

'So, do you think he's looking for you and your friends?'

Hermione shrugged, thinking back to the many times they'd been pursued by Voldemort's minions or the monster himself. 'I don't think I want to know for sure, but we knew we couldn't wait to find out.'

'That's so scary!'

'Yes, I guess it-,'

'He's supposed to be one of the most powerful wizards of our time, relentless from what I've been allowed to read at home.'

'...Yes, I know.'

'Oh,' Merida's starlight bright eyes widened to saucers as she pressed her fingers ot her lips. 'I'm sorry, that was dumb of me.'

'It's okay, really. Can we just move on to something else?'

'Yes, of course. Are you and your friends coming to the Halloween feats? You arrived just in time.'

'In the Great Hall?' Hermione frowned. 'Yes, I suspect so. I'll be hungry that day, I assume.'

'No, silly, the outdoor feast, they do it every year,' Merida grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her to the tower window, pointing to the vast green by the lake. 'They set up tables and tables of food and the Professors bring the floating candles outside, they look like falling stars. It's absolutely beautiful.'

Quietly wondering why she had never heard of this tradition in her time, Hermione still nodded. 'It sounds lovely, of course I'll go.'

'Who will you ask?'

'Ask?'

'As your date!'

'Why would I need one to have dinner?'

'Are you from another planet?' Merida giggled, jumping on her own bed 'You go with a date to the Halloween feast, it's just how it's done.'

'Um, I don't think I'll have time to get a date by next week.'

'Sure you will! Just a little less time with your nose in the books and maybe a little rouge,' Merida pinched Hermione's cheeks until her hands were batted away.

'I really don't mind going alone, Merida. I'll just go with Harry, Ron and Draco.'

'Fine,' Merida whined dramatically. 'Be a spoil sport, but you're missing out. Best dressed couple win a trip to Honeydukes paid for by the teachers.'

'Best dressed?'

'...Do they not have Halloween in France?'

'Of course they do,' Hermione scoffed. 'You mean we're expected to dress up?'

'It's the best part!'

'Of course it is.'

* * *

Professor Bolt certainly had a flare about him as he strode confidently to the front of the class, his robes billowing behind him. Hermione snapped her book shut, folding her hand son her lap as he reached the front and gave a welcoming nod to all.

'Good morning students, I trust you all rested over the weekend and are ready for your next assignment,' there was a slight murmur of answers. 'Good, very good, now if you would all please turn to Chapter eight of your textbooks and get your wands ready.'

There was a rustle of parchment and bags before the Professor clapped his hands together and disappeared into his office. Hermione glanced at the chapter; seeing a list of common and vicious creatures. None of which she cared to run across in a classroom let alone anywhere else. Bolt returned dragging a cart with a large crate balanced on top. Waving his wand, he moved his desk flat against the far wall and set the box in its place at the center.

'Now then. Who here has come across any of the little gremlins in this chapter?' A scattering of hands rose. 'Good, good, have you dealt with any of them personally?'

As a few hands went down, Bolt continued to nod before motioning for everyone get to their feet. Hermione stared at the box as it shook and snarled, slightly uneasy with the memories of Lupin bringing a Boggart into the school in her third year. There was excitement in the air though as the rest of the class had noticed the movement too and were eager to see what was in store for them.

'A little precaution,' Bolt flicked his wand at the classroom doors, locking them shut and once again at the students desks, causing them to rise into the air and stick to the ceiling. 'No little hiding places, you see. Now, if you'd all recite after me... _Deletrius._ '

The class did as he asked, copying the sharp, zigzag of his wand with their owns and muttering the charm.

'Good, very good, now be careful where you aim with this particular spell; it doesn't know friend from foe.'

'What does it do, Professor?' A mousey haired boy near the front shot his hand into the air.

'It can be used to eradicate one's target, Mr. Mauley,' Bolt enthused. 'Simple, but powerful and a spell any savvy wizard or witch should have in their arsenal. Today we will be both practising this particular spell and helping the grounds keeper with a slight pest problem. In this crate I have some feisty little fellows known as Red Caps that have been causing problems on the Quidditch pitch.'

'Red Caps?' The same Mauley boy yelped. 'They're dangerous!'

'Indeed they are, my boy, so we must learn to be more so. If you'd all like to get into groups of three, I only have eight of the little Devils in here so you'll need to work in teams.'

Quietly wondering just how long it took Hogwarts to get more stringent about what monsters they let into the classrooms, Hermione stood beside the Mauley boy and a tall, rather gangly looking Ravenclaw girl that she'd been sitting next to.

'Hi, I'm Jane Hollow-wood,' she held out her hand to Hermione. 'You're new, right? I've seen you around.'

'Hermione Viktor and yes, I'm new.' She turned to the mousey haired boy. 'Mauley, right? I didn't catch your first name.'

'It's David, David Mauley and it's nice to meet you.'

'Good, now I'll have you come to the front in your groups, I'll release a red Cap and together you'll do away with him. Are you ready?'

The first group gave a round of barely convincing nods and Bolt lifted the lid of the crate, levitating a snarling, thrashing little man to the front of the room. His teeth gnashed in anger and his blood red cap tilted frantically on his head. Hermione's stomach clenched at the idea of killing a creature, especially for a lesson, but as it lunged for the trio of Slytherin girls, she felt a little better.

They screeched, throwing up their hands in panic and only one having the presence of mind to even recite the charm. Unfortunately her wand was aimed at the ceiling and she only managed to singe a mark above her head. The snapping creature raked it's clawed hands at their stomachs, but was frozen mid-swipe by Bolt.

'Now girls, enough shrieking, you know the charm.'

'It's scary, Professor!' One protested in high-pitched voice.

'It's frozen,' he tapped it on the nose with his wand. 'It cannot hurt you now, so go ahead.'

Hermione watched them swap scared glances before the girl in the middle aimed her wand and murmured the spell. It hit the Red Cap in the chest, but the creature remained unmoved and Bolt looked as though he was fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

'All right girls, good try, thank you.' He tapped the Red Cap on the head once more and a few people jumped as it puffed into a small cloud of ash. 'Next group.'

With only one other group behind them, Hermione and her fellow Ravenclaws shuffled forward as group after group failed to completely destroy their Red Cap. Some got close, at least rendering the vicious thing unconscious, but so far all had been removed by Professor Bolt. Draco shuffled his feet behind Hermione, but she didn't dare turn to chat, not when he was in a group with Riddle and Regulus Black.

Mauley seemed to be looking for any possibly exit as their turn neared, but Jane was mouthing the charm over and over as though she hoped to make it a reflex by the time they reached the front. Having used the spell before, Hermione wasn't worried and found herself growing more and more frustrated at the lack of ability she was witnessing. Grindelwald was alive and active in this time and it seemed unbelievable to her that the students were so unprepared. Reminding herself that it was a different time and they couldn't have known what was to come, she shook her head and stepped up to the front with her partners.

Bolt greeted them enthusiastically, but there was some wear in his eyes from the disappointments preceding. 'Are you three ready?'

'Yes, Professor.' They said in unison.

'Good!' He lifted the lid and some of the girls shrieked as two Red Caps, who had obviously figured out the pattern, leaped free.

'Oh Merlin!' Jane yelped, immediately staggering back and away from the growling gremlins.

' _Deltrius!'_ Mauley waved his wand frantically, mispronouncing the spell and landing tail bone first onto the stone ground.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione snapped her wand to and fro. ' _Deletrius_.' she spoke with such clarity, it almost sounded like a demand and the two creatures were turned into dark clouds of ash instantaneously.

'Well, well...,' Bolt mused as a few Ravenclaws cheered and Draco came to stand beside Hermione. 'Now that's what I wanted to see, exceptional Miss Viktor. Ten points to Ravenclaw.'

'Thank you, Professor.' Hermione beamed.

'No, no, thank _you_.' Bolt chuckled to himself as he looked to the three Slytherins waiting in the wings. 'Sorry, gentlemen, it seems your turn will have to wait since Miss Viktor was kind enough to hurry us along in time for the end of class.'

'Of course, professor.' Riddle's cool tone sent a shiver down Hermione's spine, but she didn't dare turn.

The desks slowly lowered back to their original places and Professor Bolt busied himself tidying away the crate and the scattering of ashes left behind. Hermione tucked away her book and wand, glancing over her shoulder to see Draco idling by the door for her. As she swung her satchel over her shoulder and wandered to meet him, she paused when Bolt called out.

'Miss Viktor, a word, if I may?'

Draco's eyes locked with hers and his icy blue stare seemed to be trying to tell her something, but he was soon swept up in the group of Slytherin boys.

'Of course, Professor,' Hermione turned back, standing with her hands folding in front of his recently replaced desk. 'Is something wrong?'

'No, nothing at all, Miss Viktor,' he came to sit on the edge of his desk. 'I was just curious where you learnt to cast a charm with such force. It's quite a remarkable thing for a witch your age.'

'Oh, I um, I don't know, Professor,' Hermione chewed her lip, trying to come up with a reason that didn't involve trying save Harry and Ron's butts from first year. 'It just came out.'

'You and your friends, you came to Hogwarts as refuge, is that right?'

'Yes.'

'Don't look so surprised, Miss Viktor, I'm not planning on making an announcement to the class,' Bolt flashed his most charming smile. 'We were informed by the Headmaster upon your arrival of your circumstances.'

'Oh,' Hermione tucked a curl behind her ear. 'Of course.'

'My only concern, Miss Viktor, is that your ability comes from experience. I won't pry as to what you and your friends have been through, but I don't want to put you in a situation in class that might cause any distress for you.'

'I appreciate that, Professor, really I do, but I'm fine.'

Bolt considered her for a moment, his attention heavy and oddly piercing for such an amiable man. He eventually gave a short nod though, apparently satisfied for now. 'Very well Miss Viktor, but please be mindful if you ever do feel uncomfortable in this class you need only say so.'

'Thank you, I will.'

'Good, give your next professor my apologies for keeping you.'

Hermione nodded, turning on her heel as she made for the door, trying to remember if she had grabbed her Transfiguration book from the bed when an odd thought struck her. She paused, chewing on it for a moment before turning back to professor Bolt.

'Professor?'

'Mm?'

'Why didn't you ask Draco to stay back?'

'I'm sorry?'

'Draco Lucius, one of the boys who arrived with me. I'm just curious as to why you didn't ask him to stay if you were worried about causing us discomfort given our situation.'

Bolt frowned deeply as though trying to decipher some kind of code and eventually giving a small, incredulous laugh. 'Well, because I assume Mr. Lucius is made of stronger stuff than that, Miss Viktor. He's fled a war, after all.'

'...Right,' Hermione bit her tongue. 'Of course.'

Knowing full well she'd earn a scowl from the rest of the Slytherins, Hermione took a seat beside Draco as their potions class filed on, having been delayed by Dumbledore's tardiness. He gave her a questioning sideways glance, but said nothing in protest as she set her book and parchment in front of her.

'What did Bolt want?'

'To patronise me, I suspect.'

'What?'

'Nothing,' Hermione shook her head, freeing a curl from behind her ear. 'Just wanted to know where I learnt to cast charms like that one.'

'Did you tell him?'

'He already knew why we're here, Dippet told the Professors.'

Draco frowned, but didn't say anything further as Dumbledore strode to the front of the class, offering his apologies and instructing the class on which pages they would need. Thankfully it was not a practical lesson and Hermione and Draco were given some privacy by the scribbling of quills and murmur of chatter that filled the room. For once Riddle was not seated directly behind them, but two desks down and the ease was pleasant.

'You don't think he's suspicious, do you?'

'Riddle?'

'Bolt.'

'Oh,' Hermione shook her head. 'No, I don't think so. I think he was actually trying to make a nice gesture. Besides, you'd be the one to know if Riddle was catching on to us.'

'Maybe, maybe not,' Draco sighed. 'He's tight lipped during the day, it seems to be only the meetings they hold in secret where anything is said. Not that I thought he'd be foolish enough to risk being overheard.'

'When is the next meeting?'

'I have no idea,' Draco groaned, scratching his quill a little harder. 'He seems to call them without notice, an insurance plan I assume.'

'Damn it,' Hermione sighed, flipping over to her third page of notes. 'I mean I suppose it's good he isn't moving faster, but...,'

'You want to go home too?'

Hermione glanced over to Draco, catching his icy eyes with her own warm cinnamon coloured ones and she gave a soft nod. The Slytherin gave an understanding nod and the pair fell into working in silence side by side until Dumbledore emerged from his own reading to dismiss the class. The pair parted ways as Hermione headed to Potions and Draco walked with his fellow Slytherins to Charms.

They filed in as their terse lipped Professor waited with a single tapping shoe for everyone to take a seat. She immediately barked their study for the day and demanded quiet before disappearing into her office; making only a very brief appearance for their lesson it would seem. Draco quirked an eyebrow at the strange woman, but didn't argue as he set out to jot down yet more notes. Seated beside Regulus, he couldn't help but notice his lack of work and glanced up to see him swivelled in his chair and speaking in hushed tones with Riddle and Abraxas.

'I was thinking maybe Ida Bullstrode.' Abraxas waved his hand dismissively. 'What about you?'

'Had my eye on that new Ravenclaw, actually,' Regulus elbowed draco, pausing when he saw he already had his attention. 'Maybe you could help me there, Lucius.'

'I think I missed the introduction,' he raised en eyebrow. 'What are you talking about.'

'The Halloween feast,' Riddle muttered, idly scribbling his own noted. 'The Professors like to encourage us to bring dates.'

'Why?'

'A half-brained scheme of Helga Hufflepuff's to encourage the various Houses to fraternise,' he scoffed. 'And one they insist on pursuing.'

'So, in the spirit of the occasion, I was thinking of asking out that friend of yours. Hermione, is it?' Regulus flourished his hands with a lecherous grin.

'Yes, Hermione, but I don't know what help I can be.'

'What do you mean, you two seem close.'

Draco smirked, turning slightly in his chair. 'It makes little difference with Hermione, I'm afraid. She'll do whatever she likes.'

'So it seems.' Riddle spoke barely above a whisper and yet it rang in Draco's ears as she struggled to keep his composure. Just what had she said to him that night?

'Damn, guess I'll have to rely on the old Black charm.' Regulus waggled his eyebrows.

'Better have a back up plan,' Abraxas sneered. 'Who are you taking, Riddle?'

'I don't know,' he brushed off the question. 'I've not given it any thought.'

'You are going though, aren't you?'

'Unfortunately I must, part of my responsibility as a Prefect.'

'Oh well, I'm sure you won't have any shortage of volunteers,' Regulus grinned. 'Might even be a queue if you take too long.'

'Very amusing.' Riddle drawled, his tone conveying very clearly he was done with the topic.

'What about you, Lucius? Got your eye on anyone yet.'

'Can't say I do,' Draco mumbled, slightly in thought. 'I didn't think it would be a prerequisite here.'


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: I just wanted to take a moment and say a big thank you to everyone who has returned to this story with me after such a long hiatus. I apologise if the chapters are a little clunky; I'm still shaking the rust off. If you are having fun reading them though, please let me know in a review and ENJOY!**

 **CHAPTER 8**

'We need to talk.'

Hermione jumped as Draco dropped beside her in the library booth. She reflexively slammed the book shut, clipping her finger once more and putting it in her mouth.

'You've gotten very quiet these days.'

'It's a library.'

'What's going on?' She rolled her eyes, shoving her stack of books out of the way as he put his bag as part of the barrier.

'Have you heard about this Halloween feast?'

'The outdoor one? Yes, Merida told me about it.'

'Did she tell you they like to encourage dates?'

Hermione shifted a little uncomfortably in the booth, her mind trying to come up with any scenario that didn't end with Draco asking her to the feast. Trying to keep her expression blank, Hermione nodded and motioned for him to go on.

'What about it?'

'Regulus Black is going to ask you.'

Hermione's eyes widened into saucers as Draco shrugged the unfortunate truth. 'He's what?! Are you mad?'

'Hey, don't yell at the messenger. He told me in Charms today and I thought I should warn you. A little gratitude, maybe?'

Hermione bit her lip from the outburst and felt her cheek redden with embarrassment. Sitting back lower in her chair after jumping up, she nodded. 'You're right, sorry. I am grateful you told me, but what do I do?'

'Let him lead and don't drink any punch he gives you?'

'Draco!'

'What do you want me to say, Hermione? Tell him no or go with him; the options are clear.'

'I guess so,' Hermione ran her hand through her curls. 'I don't have a date though. Maybe if I just don't go it will be okay.'

'I thought the point was to fit in?' Draco idly flipped through one of the books Hermione had stacked. 'Sounds like this is a big deal around here.'

'Why do you think thy don't still do it, in our time I mean?'

'I don't know,' he frowned in thought. 'I wondered that myself. Maybe Voldemort rising unified the houses enough they didn't need a costumed feast outdoors once a year.'

Hermione chuckled at the dark humour, starting to pile the books back into their sections. 'I never figured you for the silver lining type.'

'I'm coming around to it.' Draco smirked, frowning though when the sound of the library door caught his attention. 'Who's that?'

'Other students do use this place, Draco,' Hermione teased. 'Just because you're allergic.'

Draco shot Hermione a dry look, interrupted when Regulus Black's smirking face peered over the stack of books. They wobbled a she leaned his elbow on it, giving his fellow Slytherin a curt nod and Hermione a decidedly lecherous stare.

'Not interrupting, am I?'

'We were just leaving, actually.' Draco nudged Hermione's foot under the table and she was quick to nod.

'Just have to put my books back.'

'Leave them for the librarian, that's what she's paid for.'

'It's no trouble,' Hermione frowned. 'I don't like leaving a mess.'

'No, I suppose a girl should like things tidy,' Black mused as Hermione began to slip books back into their shelves. 'For her future of course.'

'Of course.' Hermione grit.

'So, have any of your fellow Ravenclaws let you in on our little feast?'

'It's been mentioned, yes.'

'Has anyone been intelligent enough to ask your lovely self as their partner?'

Hermione's stomach dropped and she almost slipped off the ladder she used to reach the high shelf. She caught Draco twitch out of the corner of her eye and her fingernails dug into the book cover as she put the final one away.

'Um, I...I hadn't really-,'

'I did.'

It was hard to tell who turned faster; Regulus or Hermione as Draco spoke. His expression was as calm as ever, but Hermione could see his fingers clenched in his pocket. Regulus, however, made no secret of his clenched fist as he stared at his Slytherin brother with a furious glint.

'You what?'

'I asked Hermione,' Draco shrugged. 'I was waiting for her answer when you came in.' He turned to look up expectantly at Hermione who was still clinging to the library ladder. The widening of his eyes and signal to hurry up snapped her into action and she quickly climbed down, nodding along with the ruse.

'Yes, I'd like to go with you, Draco,' she gave Regulus the most apologetic look she could muster. 'I'm sorry Regulus, I, um, I didn't know.'

'Neither did I.' Black practically spat out the words as he turned and left the library, slamming the doors behind him and earning a hiss from the librarian.

The silence hung heavy between Draco and Hermione as she turned to stare at him once more, having hung her satchel over her shoulder.

'Thank you,' she murmured. 'I, uh, was not expecting that.'

'Neither was I,' Draco smoothed back his gelled platinum locks as he held the door for Hermione. 'I don't know how Potter does this White Knight thing so frequently; it's making my stomach hurt.'

'I don't know that he thinks about it, really.'

* * *

Merida had almost shattered the dorm windows with her squeal when Hermione told her she had a date to the Halloween feast, she even looked surprised to find out who it was. She warmed to the idea when Hermione reminded her a she'd only spoken to a handful of students, let alone struck up any kind of chemistry. The rest of the week was littered with snippets of excitable conversations on costumes and the occasional squeak when passing a girl being asked as a date in the hall. Ron and Harry had both somehow found dates, although within their own house, and had done a poor job of masking their displeasure at Hermione and Draco's arrangement.

Only by laying out the alternative had Hermione got the pair to bite their tongues and go along with the facade, it was just one night after all. A night that crept steadily closer as the week drew on. It wasn't until they filed out of their Friday afternoon Transfiguration class that Hermione had the sudden realisation. She grabbed Draco's arm, getting a raised eyebrow for her trouble.

'Costumes!'

'...Uniforms.'

'...What?'

'I was doing word association, what were you doing?'

She rolled her eyes with a huff. 'Costumes, Draco, we need costumes for the Halloween feast.'

'Oh come on, we're not going in for that, surely.'

'Ron and Harry already have theirs! I meant to make something, but the week just got away from me.'

'Can we not just go in uniform? We'll be students.'

'You're not helping.'

'I'm also not trying.'

'Fine, I'll find us costumes then,' Hermione held her chin high with a slightly devious glint. 'If you don't want to be helpful then you won't get a say. Meet me outside the Ravenclaw portrait an hour before the feast.'

'Granger...,'

'Had you chance, _Lucius_ , I'll see you tomorrow.' Although outwardly pleased with her jibe, Hermione felt the triumph fading as she made her way back tot he dorm. The threat was all good and well, but she had no idea what to do for costumes, she didn't even have supplies.

It was with a frustrated groan that she flopped onto her bed, pulling her pillow over her face as she felt the mattress dip beside her. Hermione didn't even need to look up to know who had joined her; Merida almost hummed with a barely suppressed energy whenever she was around.

'Why so sad, little Hinkypunk?'

'I forgot to get Draco and I costumes for the feast.'

'Oh no, what are you going to do?'

'Oh I don't know,' she grumbled. 'How does this look? Am I a convincing pillow?'

'A little too chatty,' Merida peeled the plain white cloth from Hermione's face and hauled her to sit up. 'Now come on, you've still got time to come up with something.'

'I don't even have any supplies, nothing I could Transfigure,' Hermione gave a forlorn look to the scarce scattering of clothes she had been given on her arrival. 'I didn't bring much.'

'I did!' Merida almost rolled off the bed, dragging her thick, bulging suitcase from beneath her bed and popping the latch. The lid slammed back onto the floor, groaning in relief as the piles of clothes sprang outwards.

'That's kind, Merida, but I don't think-,'

'Oh no, we're not the same size. You're a bit tall, but that's okay!' She was tossing various coloured fabrics over her arm as she spoke. 'We just need to find something we can charm a little into a costume.'

'Unless you've got men's clothing in there too, we still have the issue of Draco.'

Merida paused in her foraging, pouting out her bottom lip in thought. 'True...I'll see what I can rummage from the boys!'

'Oh, no, that's really not-,'

'Here!' Merida showered Hermione in an armful of clothes, most of which scattered about the floor, as she jogged down the dormitory stairs and into the common room.

'You had to say something.' Hermione murmured to herself as she scooped up the garments and laid them on her bed. They were all beautiful to be sure; quality fabrics and stylish cuts for the era. There was a vague question of just when the Lovegood money had run dry as she ran her fingertips over a deep crimson, satin top.

After hearing Draco's voice reminding her they were supposed to fit in, Hermione swallowed her pride and began to hold the slightly undersized clothing against her, trying to imagine what character it could be. It all looked like costume to her; dated, 40's costumes and nothing else. She found a pair of deep navy blue knickerbockers and held them to her waist with a giggle.

'Ooh that's a great idea!'

Hermione almost tore them as she jerked in surprise at Merida's return, even more surprisingly carrying an assortment of men's clothes. Frowning at the starry-eyed girl and looking back at the knickerbockers, she shook her head.

'What idea?'

'A genie, of course!'

'A what? No, I don't think so.'

'Oh shush, it's perfect. We'll just give those a little touch up and maybe...,' Merida threw her clothes over her shoulders as she clearly dug for something in particular. 'This!'

'What on earth is that?'

'It's actually the top half of a dress; the skirt was trampled by Thestrals last summer and I couldn't bring myself to throw it out. Here, try it on.'

Merida handed Hermione a gold beaded top with sleeves that hung low on her arms and a hem several inches too short to cover her stomach entirely. Quickly realising Merida was not going to give her any privacy, Hermione unbuttoned her school shirt and pulled the silken top on, wincing as it pinched under her arms.

'I think it's a touch too small,' she turned back to her friend, motioning to the sleeves that were supposed to hang loose cutting into her arms. 'I'm losing feeling in my fingers.'

'We can fix that!' Merida pointed her wand at Hermione's chest. ' _Engorgio_.'

Perhaps understandably flinching away form the deep violet wave the flew from Merida's wand, Hermione shimmied as the cloth released it's stranglehold on her and she turned back to the mirror. She had to admit; it was a nice fit now, although still too high on her stomach for her taste; a concern Merida was quick to dismiss as she grabbed handfuls of her curls. Holding them high on her head, Merida flicked the odd curl to the side.

'See! With a high ponytail, a little make up, some costume jewellery and it will be perfect!'

'And just what the heck is Draco supposed to be in this fantasy of yours?' Hermione batted Merida's hands away.

'The master!'

'...The what?'

'You know, genie and her master.'

'Did someone use Reducio on your brain?'

'Hermione!'

'Well you can't be serious, Merida,' she wriggled her way out of the shimmering top. 'As if Draco's ego wasn't inflated enough.'

'Do _you_ have a better idea?'

'It would be impossible not to; any idea is better than that.'

'Let's hear it then.' Merida folded her arms and cocked her hip, staring expectantly at Hermione with a withering gaze McGonagall would have been proud of.

Popping her lips like a drunken goldfish, Hermione stared at the piles of clothes in the hope a solution would jump out at her. Coming up blank, but determined not to give in, she threw up her hands in frustration and buttoned her white shirt back up.

'I don't have anything right now, but I have until tomorrow night to come up with something.'

Merida gave her a strange look, glancing over her shoulder at something for a moment before looking back and shaking her head. 'Tonight...,'

'Tonight, what?'

'The feast...is tonight. In three hours time.'

Hermione's heart jostled uncomfortably in her chest and she stared boggled-eyed at Merida as she tried to calm the hubbub in her mind. 'No...No, it's Halloween tomorrow.'

'Yes, but the feast is _tonight_ ,' Merida repeated slowly. 'The Professors didn't like the idea of having students out in the dark on Halloween night so the feast is always held the night before.'

'Why didn't you tell me that earlier?!'

'I thought you knew!'

'Does this look like a face that knew?'

'Maybe if you read a planner among all those books then it wouldn't be a surprise,' Merida teased with a smirk, holding up the beaded shirt she had tossed aside. 'Genie and master.'

'No.'

'Three hours to do better, Hermione, not to mention how ever long it takes us to get ready.'

'...I hate you, Merida.'

'It'll pass.'

* * *

Draco had a new appreciation for what it must be like in the average girls bathroom as he sat, legs folded on his bed and tried to read as his fellow dorm-mates bustled around. The smell of gel, the stench of singed hair and a possible bathtub of cologne combined to make a teenage aroma from Hell. It was all he could do not to pull his shirt over his nose. There were all manner of costumes being put together as he watched; a few Prince Charmings, a Devil, a Red Cap and even a troll could be seen pacing from the Common Room and back.

Regulus black, dressed to look like the infamous black dog, took a seat on the foot of Draco's bed, gesturing to his uniform. 'Not a lot of imagination in you, is there?'

'I outsourced my imagination to Hermione.'

'I don't follow.'

'She's putting our costumes together,' he sighed, looking up from his book in time to see Regulus' eye twitch at her name. 'I'll go meet her at the Ravenclaw tower soon.'

'That's brave,' Abraxas piped up, trying to fix the corner of his highwayman's hat. 'You might end up going as a flower and a bee.'

'Or a pair of bananas.'

'Why would we be bananas?' Draco raised an eyebrow.

'Ask Hermione, she picked the costume.' The elder Malfoy snorted. 'Maybe you'll be a quaffle and snitch, since Regulus couldn't catch her, right?'

Black scowled as Abraxas dug his elbow in, chuckling as he sat on his bed to begin the arduous task of lacing up his boots. The subject had been deftly avoided between Regulus and Draco since their meeting in library, but now they simply sat there in tense silence.

'Who are you going with?' Draco broached carefully.

'Florence Patil,' he murmured. 'She's going as a victim of the black dog.'

'The poetry of it.'

'I swear I'll hang you by your laces, Malfoy.'

'Down boy.' Malfoy grinned.

'She'll do though,' Regulus turned his sullen attention back to Draco. 'Considering...,'

'Look, Black, maybe I should have told you in class I planned on asking her, but I didn't think you were serious,' Draco groaned, sliding off his bed. 'If I'd known, I probably would have said something.'

'Don't give me apologies.'

'I don't recall apologising,' Draco sneered in true Slytherin fashion. 'If you'll excuse me though, I have a costume to pick up.'

'Her name's Hermione!'

Draco descended the stairs to the sound of Abraxas chortling at himself and managed to wade through the sea of giggling second-years to make his way to the Ravenclaw portrait. The halls were bare for the time of day; no doubt most students were still primping in front of a mirror. With a hesitant, self-conscious thought to how busy all his fellow Slytherins had been, Draco smoothed back his platinum locks with his hand. He wrangled a stray strand behind his ear as he leant on the wall opposite the Ravenclaw portrait; having told it he didn't have the answer to the riddle.

It's snooty disappointment was flipped out a sight as Hermione emerged, almost stumbling out as she saw Draco waiting. She too was still in her usual school attire and he made a vague gesture to her clothe sin question.

'It's like a bull fight in the bathroom,' she explained with a smirk, rummaging in a cloth bag. 'I'm just waiting for someone to move.'

'Would you believe the boys dormitory is much the same?'

'Slytherin boys? Yes. Absolutely.'

'Very funny. So, Wordsworth, what did you put together after all of your bluster?'

If Draco didn't know any better he would have sworn a hint of pink tinged Hermione's cheeks as she resolutely stared into the bag over her shoulder. She was taking her time in the search for whatever she had pieced together, even though he was sure she was just shoving the same piece of cloth back and forth.

'I, um, well, it wasn't really me...,'

'You?'

'Who put it together, Merida Lovegood did most of it.'

Draco cocked an eyebrow. 'Bodes well.'

'I want it on the record that I protested vigorously against the idea, but I didn't realise the feast was tonight, so I had no time to come up with anything else and Merida had already-,'

'Take a breath, Gr- Viktor,' Draco held up a hand. 'Your barely literate ramble is on the record, now if I could have my costume? The feast is going to start soon.'

'Right...,' Resigned to the ridicule, Hermione pulled out a black linen shirt with a deep V neck, held together by string along with a white cotton vest and grey pants. She added a small, pill-box style men's hat to the pile and motioned to his eyes. 'A, um, a little eyeliner would probably top it off.'

Draco stared at the pile in his arms, clearly trying to piece together some kind of puzzle in his mind before finally giving up and nodding to it. 'I'll bite, what the heck is all of this?'

'Mostly borrowed and slightly transfigured Ravenclaw clothes.'

'You know what I mean, Viktor.'

Hermione sighed. 'We're going as a genie and...and the person who finds the genie.'

Draco's ice blue eyes lit up almost instantly, his pale lips curling in a classic Malfoy sneer as he reassessed the clothes he held. His glaze flickered up to Hermione with a dazzle deserving of a child on Christmas and Hermione held up a warning finger.

'Not one single word, Draco. I'm warning you.'

'Now, Viktor, that's no way to speak to your ma-,'

'Go! Get dressed!' Hermione banished Draco with a swing of her arm, spinning on her heel and swiftly scrambling back into the common room before he had a chance to respond. She dropped back against it, holding her breath until she heard his footsteps leaving. If she wasn't much mistaken there was an irritating jaunty bounce in his step.

'This is going to be a long night...,'

'Longer still if you don't hurry up and get ready!'

Hermione almost flew through the portrait as Merida came bounding into view, looking quite the sight in her sky blue unitard littered with shimmering rainbow scales. She pinned back one last floating lock of wispy white hair before giving a little twirl.

'What do you think?'

'Finest Zora I've ever seen.'

'Thank you! I hope Henry likes it.'

'I'm sure he will,' Hermione smiled softly as she wandered back up to the thankfully thinning bathroom. 'I'll just be a minute.'

'You'd better be longer than that! I put a lot of effort into that costume!'

* * *

Hermione had never seen the grounds look so magical; which in a wizarding school was saying something. Candles floated through the night air, untouched by the gentle breeze that rustled the leaves, there was a large, flat dance floor bordered by glowing, various coloured mushrooms and a feast table that stretched on for yards. Students already filed around the tables that lined either side of the feast, drinking punch and explaining their costumes. Her toes started to ache as she peered through the window in the entrance hall and Hermione dropped back to her feet to hear someone clearing their throat behind her.

She turned with a mild hum of surprise to see Draco waiting for her; he cut a dashing figure in his linen shirt and vest she had to admit. Clearly having taken her advice and succumb to some eager Slytherin girl; his usually icy pale eyes were framed in a thin line of black. He'd also borrowed a velvet purse form someone and it sat against his hip, adding to the look.

Draco too had paused, his eyes betraying his surprise as he examined Hermione's costume. She wore a gold beaded top that stopped just slightly above her waist and exposed a thin stop of midriff. Matched with it were deep navy harem pants and small, pointed gold shoes. To top it off, just barely concealing the glare that dared him to comment, was a thin, navy veil that reached an unseen clip in her thick, cocoa hair to sweep over her lips and back up.

'If you say one word, Draco...,'

'You'll grant my wish?'

'This was a terrible idea.'

'Well obviously, Viktor,' Draco motioned through the open castle doors and out to the grounds. 'It was yours.'


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

'Are you a bear?'

'No.'

'A squirrel?'

'No.'

'A dust-bunny?'

'No!'

'Just tell us, Scabbers,' Draco groaned, finishing his class of punch. 'The feast will be over before we get it.'

'I'm a boggart!'

'Really?' Hermione crinkled her nose.

'What are you afraid of? Clogged drains?' Harry too finished his drink placing the empty glass on one of the many trays that idly floated around the students.

'I was going for mass effect; I thought a lot of people are scared of hairy monsters.'

'After tonight, that's probably true.' Draco scoffed as Ron glared.

Harry chuckled as he was waved over to the dance floor by his date, Gertrude Appletree, wearing the Maid Marian to his Robin Hood. Harry pushed his glasses up his nose, gripped Ron by the elbow and the Gryffindor's made their excuses as they shuffled along the dance floor.

'Would you have guessed boggart in a million years?'

'Not if I had a time turner and a death wish.' Hermione grinned as she glanced to Draco, accidentally locking eyes for a brief moment with Regulus Black. Something seized in her chest and she turned back to Draco with a slight grimace.

'What is it?'

'Nothing, Black is behind you and he's not looking pleased.'

Draco blatantly looked over his shoulder. 'No, he's not is he. Perhaps Miss Patil isn't as light on her feet as he was hoping.'

'...Did you just make a polite weight joke?'

'I'm blending in better than I thought.'

'You? Blending in with old-fashioned points of view and social norms? Who would have thought?' Hermione chuckled softly to herself.

'If only I had an actual lamp to banish you into.'

'Now there's an idea.' Hermione made an involuntary squeak of surprise as Regulus spoke, somehow having sneaked up beside them.

Draco remained as calm as ever, but did raise a questioning eyebrow, clearly looking for Black's date as he stood there alone.

'Patil tired of you already, Black?' He probed.

'The reverse, actually,' he sighed. 'Girl could talk with a mouthful of marbles, I swear.'

'So where is she?'

'Powering her nose,' he shrugged, clearly uninterested. 'So what do you think of your first Halloween feast, Hermione?'

'Oh, it's lovely, everything is just perfect.'

'Except the company, right?' Black flashed a lecherous wink that Hermione met with a cool smirk.

'Only very recently, would you excuse us?' She hooked her arm in Draco's, pulling him into step toward the dance floor as Black glared after them.

'Merlin's beard, Hermione,' Draco chuckled. 'It's fun to be on the other side of your temper.'

'Naturally we has to come back to Tom Riddle's time to find someone worse.'

'Retract the claws, Viktor, I'm not the enemy at this second. Remember?'

'Right...Right, sorry,' Hermione muttered. 'It's almost a reflex around Slytherins.'

'Mm,' Draco frowned deeply in thought as they came to stand on the edge of the dance floor; their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the mushrooms. 'I don't suppose I've done much to change that, have I?'

'I'd call you more of a cause than a cure, Draco.'

'Influential without even trying; Father would be proud.' Shaking his head, Malfoy gestured to the dance floor with a slight resignation. 'Enough, shall we continue to fit in or would you rather drown in punch?'

'You can dance?'

Draco laughed, although it wasn't an entirely mirthful gesture, and fixed Hermione with an oddly intense stare. 'Never underestimate the hoops Pureblood parents will make their kids jump through to keep up their image.'

Snapping her mouth shut at his tone, Hermione ceased her teasing and allowed Draco to lead her onto the floor. The Professors, she assumed, had laid out a large flattened area and it seemed to grow with every new couple who stepped upon it. The ground was slightly soft under foot, as though whatever they dance up simply rested atop the thick grass beneath.

Once she was accustomed to it, Hermione found her step with relative ease and began gliding along the dance floor with Draco Malfoy. Not a situation she had ever really planned for and yet, perhaps due to the impossibility of their situation, she had found him less detestable of late. His grip was firm and his steps absolute as she lead them in a simple Waltz. They spun past younger pairs stumbling on each other's feet and even a few teachers who swept a path along the floor effortlessly. Draco lead Hermione in a graceful spin, leading them past a couple both recognised as Hufflepuff in a strongly whispered argument.

'What will Black be like to live with after tonight?' Hermione asked with a small smile. 'I imagine the dorm will be a little frosty.'

'Perhaps, but he's still far form my main concern.'

'True enough,' she nodded. 'No further word in that area?'

'Nothing,' Draco sighed. 'There's only so much I can ask without being seen as prying.'

'I know. For all the planning and worrying; I would not want your part in all of this.'

'You Gryffindors never could understand the value of a little yes-maning.'

'Should we?'

'It's considerably less exhausting than taking up every fight,' Draco weaved them past a couple more Professors. 'And you'll find much more fruitful in the information area.'

As Hermione made to defend her Gryffindor house-mates, she paused when a hand rested on Draco's shoulder, stopping their dance. Malfoy turned with a stiff jaw to see Professor Bolt and Professor Aramis having almost danced into them. The bald Divination's Professor beamed an unnaturally cheery smile at the pair while Bolt offered a slight nod as his apology.

'It seems the floor can't keep up with demand,' he chuckled. 'Shall we swap partners, young Mr. Lucius? I think perhaps Professor Aramis could do with a little tutelage.'

'Surely that's the perfect job for a Professor,' Draco cocked an eyebrow. 'With all due respect.'

Bolt never missed a beat, chuckling in his charming manner before dismissing the suggestion. 'Ah, I'm a tad clumsy on my feet as well, come along now, don't leave a lady waiting.'

The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher all but shoved Draco into Aramis' waiting and painted claws. All Hermione received was a slightly warning glance over his shoulder before Draco was spun away into the crowd and Hermione was left facing the blond-haired teacher.

'Shall we, Miss Viktor?' he held out a hand which Hermione reluctantly took.

Certainly the Professor had always been polite enough to her and yet there was something about his presence that made her distinctly uneasy. She gave him a tight lipped smile as he swung them into step and she was quick to note the Professor had no problems keeping time.

'So what do you think of our festivities, Miss Viktor?'

'They're beautiful.'

'I assume you had your own occasions at Beauxbatons.'

'A few.'

'You must miss them.'

'I suppose.'

'Were you a sterling conversationalist there too?' Bolt smirked as Hermione looked up with slightly widened eyes.

'Oh, um, I guess not,' she murmured. 'I'm sorry, Professor. My feet are getting rather sore in these shoes, I think I've danced all I want to for now.'

'Oh...Very well.' Somewhat hesitantly, Bolt released Hermione's hand and waist from his touch and she felt his eyes on her back as she threaded her way through the dancing crowd.

Even on her tiptoes as she neared the edge, she could see no sign of Draco or the shiny bald head of Professor Aramis. A puff of hair floated by, followed by a feathered cap though to let her know Ron and Harry were fine and enjoying the festivities. There was some part of her who envied their joyous ability to lose themselves in a situation and take whatever fun they might find. It was not for her though, all she could think of was Myrtle, the Chamber and Tom Riddle. Surely time must be running down and the lack of information finding its way to Draco simply made her feel more in the dark. It was with a gradually knotting stomach that Hermione wandered to the punch table and poured herself a small class, tastelessly sipping it. She watched the dancing pairs for a time, finding a little amusement in knowing Draco was still being held captive by the airy-voiced Professor. Finishing her drink, Hermione placed her glass down and pulled her sleeves up slightly to block the chill of the wind and almost left the punch bowl for the feast table when she heard a voice.

It spoke softly and from somewhere behind her where the thick trees began to line the bend of the lake. Thinking at first she had accidentally eavesdropped on a romantic engagement, Hermione soon rethought as a shudder ran up her spine. Whoever spoke did so with enough malice to chill her from where she stood. Hermione's curiousity got the better of her and, checking no one was watching closely, she slipped to the other side of the table and edged toward the woods.

The words were still too far to discern clearly, all she could make out was the tone and it was not kind. Short of pressing herself against the trunk of the tree, Hermione could get no closer and she strained to hear over the sound of the feast. Finally near enough; she could make out the barest hint of the conversation being hissed in private.

'…I know, I know, but I didn't mean to!'

'Do stop snivelling.'

'I'm sorry, Tom, I just, I got distracted and then that Myrtle girl walked in...,'

'I'm growing tired of excuses,' the voice, Hermione now recognised as Riddle's hissed. 'You had a simple task, Lyssa, and you couldn't even do that.'

'I'll go now! I can go now and I'll check, I promise!'

There was a rustle of leaves crunching under foot as someone shifted and Hermione held her breath. Riddle spoke in low, dangerous tones to whichever girl was now whimpering behind the tree.

'I do not offer second chances.'

A dull glow outlined the tree and there was a heavy, sodden thump that followed. It was with a sickening jerk of her stomach that Hermione recognised the sound and she quickly ducked around the tree. The sound of clipped, deliberate footsteps passed her and, steeling her nerves, Hermione peered around to see Riddle calmly making his way back to the party. She wasted no time in running behind the tree and dropping to her knees beside the still, oddly cold figure of a slim, rather pretty blonde girl. She was dressed as a flapper girl; her feather having been bent in the fall, and Hermione vaguely registered the smart tailored suit Riddle wore could have passed for a 1920's gentleman. Hermione growled under her breath as she checked for a pulse and tried to wake the girl using what spells she knew. Nothing worked however and it was with a growing sense of dread that Hermione realised this girl might be in real danger.

'I'll be right back, you'll be okay. I promise.' Hermione brushed her hand along the girl's still face as she stood to find Draco, Harry and Ron.

Her plan was quickly ruined as she swallowed a yelp and took a hurried step back as not to run into the surprised, smirking figure of Regulus Black. He stood, a hand on his hip and a dangerously amused expression plastered on his gaunt face. Dark eye roved from the immobile figure of the girl to Hermione and he barked out a laugh, drowned out by the music.

'Well, well, Tom only told me to take care of one girl. This is a surprise.' He stomped nearer. 'Do you make a habit of walking into situations that don't involve you?'

'Only very recently,' Hermione hissed her barb from earlier. 'What did he do to her?'

Regulus leant to see the girl still on the ground and gave an uninterested shrug. 'I have no idea, I was just told to see her to her dorm without being seen.'

'Dorm? She needs to see the nurse!'

'And she probably will when someone finds her.'

'Someone _did_ find her and that someone is taking her to get help.'

Regulus chuckled once more, shaking his head. 'Can't let you, darlin'. I've got orders.'

'You've got orders from a student,' Hermione tried to play dumb. 'Just go, tell him she was gone already and let me take her to the Hospital Wing. I've got no interest in involving myself with you or Riddle any more than is required by your school; I'm not going to tell.'

'There's a lot about this school you've yet to grasp, Hermione,' Regulus took a step closer. 'There's a delicate balance I don't think you want to play with and you only get so many warnings.'

'Fine, count this as my first and be on your way.'

'I believe this would be your second,' Tom Riddle's tall, menacing figure rounded the thick tree that hid them from the sight of the other guests. 'And I'm certain I informed you of my policy on warnings.'

Hermione swallowed her heart back down into her chest and instinctively stepped back, closer to the unconscious girl. She was looking paler still. Trying desperately not to let on how frightened she was or just who had walked around that corner, Hermione lifted her chin bravely.

'And I just informed your errand boy that I have no interest in whatever shady behaviour you're involved in. I just want to get this girl some help.'

'Why?'

'What?'

'Why are you placing yourself between her and us; she's no friend of yours.'

'It doesn't matter,' Hermione frowned deeply. 'She's hurt. She needs help.'

'For having fled an encroaching war and powerful wizard, you're staggeringly naive.' Riddle raised an eyebrow as she stalked closer.

'How do you know-,'

'Riddle knows everything that happens in these walls.' Regulas cut in with an arrogant snort.

'I don't care,' Hermione waved her hand impatiently. 'I'm not leaving her and neither of you scare me. So either this will turn into a fight that will not go unnoticed by the Professors or you can both leave now, let me get her to help and we'll all three chalk this us to a typically disappointing school event.'

Hermione folded her arms, cocking her hip in the hope it would hide her terrified, shaking hands while Regulus' jaw dropped slightly and Riddle remained as passive as ever. Staring at him now he was an odd mix of the powerful, fatally ambitious madman Hermione knew from her time and a reserved, calculating enigma. She couldn't help but wonder when the switch flipped and Riddle lost himself further into the malicious insanity that plagued him. As for right now, he barely moved, not even the slightest tic as he chewed through Hermione's ultimatum in his mind. Finally the corner of his mouth quirked in the breath of a smirk.

'You have a backbone,' he mused softly. 'It's admirable in some respects, Miss Viktor. Although, in others, you'll find a little flexibility could be invaluable.'

'Whatever compromise you're thinking of, I'm not interested.'

'And I was not offering,' Riddle said coolly. 'You're going to walk away from this situation, quietly and calmly. You'll not speak of it to anyone now or ever.'

'You're mad if you think-,'

'If you feel the need to be needlessly stubborn or perhaps share this experience with anyone, I will see to it a thorough inspection of your time at Beauxbatons is carried out.'

'What do you-,'

'If anyone to look closely at their public enrolments, as I did, they might be surprised to find a lack of any Miss Viktor there, Past or present,' Riddle came to stand before Hermione, his slight height advantage suddenly seeming towering as he stared down at her. 'Oh, now, I have some questions of my own for you and your friends, but I imagine I will not be the only one should this secret get out. What do you think Miss _Viktor_?'

Her voice lodged somewhere behind her courage in her throat, Hermione could barely breathe as Riddle's emotionless, cold eyes stared into her soul. She didn't expect they would go undetected for their entire stay, but she hadn't counted on his suspicion so soon. How long had he known and what did this mean for Draco? Why had Riddle let him in if he knew he was not telling the truth? Deciding all of these questions could be answered later, Hermione blinked dumbly a few times. Shaking her head and squaring her shoulders, she lifted her chin and hoped her voice was stronger than her knocking knees.

'If anyone looks closely, Mr. Riddle, they'll likely see my Father's name; my family name enrolled. One I was not naive enough to use here as I am, as you so delicately pointed out, fleeing an encroaching war and a powerful wizard,' she took a slight step forward, almost closing the gap between them. 'With as many secrets and you're obviously harbouring, you must see them everywhere. Unfortunately for you, I'm not underhanded; just prepared.'

With a swift flick of her wrist, Hermione pulled her wand from the back of her pants and shot a string of vivid red sparks into the air. Never once did she drop Riddle's intense gaze and likewise the raven haired wizard didn't flinch.

'What the...,' Regulus staggered back, looking ready to run.

'You can be here to do your duty and explain if you like, Mr. Riddle,' Hermione whispered through her smirk. 'Or maybe you'd like to sit this one out?'

There was no time to answer as footsteps came thundering closer and Hermione was quick to tuck away her wand. Regulus disappeared quickly into the shadows while Riddle adopted his best concerned face when Professor Slughorn rounded the tree. He was closely followed by Bolt and Dumbledore, all of whom paused sharply in their steps to stare wide-eyed at the scene. Dumbledore was the first to move, coming to kneel beside the motionless girl and examine her closely.

'What happened here, Miss Viktor?' he asked softly.

'I don't know, sir,' Hermione lied. 'I heard someone whimpering and found her like this. I didn't know what to do...,'

'You did the right thing,' Bolt reassured her as he too came to stand over the girl. 'What say you, Albus?'

'It is some various of the body-bind curse, I believe. Something someone has tampered with.'

'A home made curse?' Slughorn blustered, looking from Hermione to Tom. 'Who could have done such a thing?'

'Anyone with sufficient determination, Horace,' Dumbledore assured the bulbous man as he stood, looking to Tom. 'Mr. Riddle, would you hasten to Nurse Mallard, quick as you can and tell her we will need a cocktail of revival potion and muscle relaxant?'

'Of course, Professor.' Riddle nodded dutifully, not once as much as glancing at Hermione as he turned on heel and disappeared into the gathering curious crowd.

'Miss Viktor, perhaps you had best go to the hospital wing too,' Bolt gestured to the castle. 'This must have been quite the shock.'

'I've seen worse.' she responded bluntly, in no mood to be patronised.

Bolt raised a straw coloured eyebrow, but made no further comment as he heeded Dumbledore's request to satiate the gathering crowd before anyone else came near. Slughorn rather palely volunteered to do the same and was quick on his feet to join Bolt. Alone, Dumbledore glanced to Hermione, considering her with an almost fatherly gaze that mirrored the man she had left on the other side of the scry.

'Are you all right, Miss Viktor?'

'Yes, Professor, I'm fine.'

'You say you heard whimpering and found Miss Yaxley like this?'

'I didn't know her name, sir, but yes.'

Dumbledore tilted his head, his auburn hair highlighted by errant streaks of moonlight as he considered his pupil carefully. 'Miss Viktor, in your short time here you've shown considerable aptitude in your studies. As such, I believe you know once someone has been afflicted with the body bind curse, they can do very little more than fall down. Let alone make a sound.'

Hermione paled. 'Professor, I...,'

'Miss Viktor, if you saw anything more then I would urge you to tell me so we may prevent a similar event. However, if perhaps you mistook the wind for a human cry then...Well, I suppose it worked out for the best.'

There was no accusation in his tone, almost the opposite of Riddle's and Hermione couldn't help but feel rising guilt in her stomach. She stared into his eyes, wise beyond even his long years and she sighed in resignation.

'I heard an argument and I was listening in when I heard her fall. I saw someone leave soon after and that's when I found her.'

'Do you know who you saw leave?'

'It's dark, Professor, and everyone is in costume...,'

'Miss Viktor.'

'...I _thought_ it was Tom Riddle, sir.'


End file.
